Growing Up under Southern Apartheid, Part 11
Ku Klux Klan Rally in Opelika, 1925 (Photo from The Encyclopedia of Alabama) |
My grandfather was a Baptist preacher who pastored churches in South Alabama’s Black Belt region during the first half of the 20th century. Churches in that day were often simple clapboard structures built with pride by hard-working people. They would gather in those churches to sing beloved hymns such as “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” “Blessed Assurance,” and “Amazing Grace.” Since he died over a decade before I was born, my knowledge of my grandfather comes through my mother’s recollections – that and a notebook of his containing the sermons he preached.
Poverty and humility have
long been considered Christian virtues, and that was certainly the case in my
grandfather’s day. It was said that one of the deacons in his church would
pray, “Protect our pastor in your love, Lord. We’ll keep him poor if you’ll
keep him humble.”
The KKK Comes Calling
One of my mother’s
early memories of her father involves an encounter with the Ku Klux Klan. This
would have been in the 1920s. According to The
Encyclopedia of Alabama, the KKK rapidly increased in its popularity and
influence in the 1920s by cultivating alliances with industrialists as well as
Black Belt planters. They would raise funds to support local community
organizations such as schools, libraries, and churches – their ulterior motive
being to promote white supremacy. “By the mid-1920s, the Klan claimed to
represent Alabama's social and economic elite: lawyers, newspaper editors,
educators, physicians, business leaders, judges, Masons, bankers, ministers,
and politicians (1).” Indeed, it was a period in Alabama’s history when
politicians sought Klan support, or even membership, in order to get elected to
state and local offices.
My mother recalled that
at that time, the Klan would often supply pulpit Bibles for churches and would
support ministers with cash to supplement their meager ministerial salaries.
The encounter she recalled happened one Sunday night during the evening church
service. She said she was a small child at the time. Her account is a little
more detailed than one would expect from a child, so I suspect that the
incident must have been a frequent topic for discussion in her family. On that
night, a group of men wearing white robes and hoods arrived unannounced,
marching into the church during the middle of the service. Such an unexpected
disruption by men in full Klan regalia must have had a startling effect on the
people gathered for worship. The hooded leader went up to the pulpit where my
grandfather was preaching to offer him an envelope filled with cash. My grandfather,
as my mother recalls, shook his head, giving no verbal response, but refusing
the offering from the Klan. The Klansman then forcefully brandished the
envelope, emphasizing that it was intended that the preacher receive it. My
mother recalled the uneasy tension that seemed to fill the room. When my
grandfather again refused the envelope, the Klan then marched out of the church,
their motives having been thwarted.
I have no idea where
the church was that the Klan encounter took place. Knowing the South, my
grandfather’s actions did nothing to change any attitudes on race. Segregation
in the South in the 1920s was the accepted norm. What his actions did show was
that there was one preacher who would give no credence to the authoritarian views
or acts of violence perpetrated by the Ku Klux Klan.
A Country Preacher’s Message
My grandfather was born in the mid-1880s. He came from a farming family (as did most in those days). He must have been a man of some vision and determination in that he went to college and seminary at a time when higher education was not the norm.
I mentioned that some of my limited knowledge of my grandfather comes from his own leather-bound notebook containing his sermons. My mother passed the notebook on to me before she died. The sermons are not written out in full, but in an outline form with major points listed numerically similar to what we might think of as “bullet points” today. I imagine that a well-honed preacher could take the notes from any one of those two-page outlines and expand them with a message shaped to relate to any particular congregation he might stand before. That notebook also records where he preached. In the upper margin, he wrote the names of places where each sermon had been delivered probably to ensure that if he preached there again, he would not repeat a message already proclaimed.
In the summer of 1912, while making the
trip from Coffeeville to Cunningham by river, one of the deckhands on the
lower deck was sounding the depths along the shoal and calling out, “9, 3, 6,”
etc. “Deeper to the right…deeper to the left.” The pilot kept in the deepest
water. So God puts his children over
life’s sea with Christ as their pilot, in deepest mercy and grace.
Sept. 26, 1921, while walking down the
street in the town of Grove Hill, Ala., I reached down and picked up my little
four-year-old boy who was weak and worn out. He threw his arms around my neck,
patted me on the back and said, “I did not ask you to do that, Daddy.” God the
father does many things for us we do not ask for.
Then and Now
In the 1920s, the Ku
Klux Klan was finding a renewed stronghold, not just in the South, but
throughout America (2). During that time, my grandfather was confronted with a
choice. The Klan was offering a monetary
reward and all he had to do in return was to continue with his ministerial
role. He must have known that buying into what the Klan was offering would exact a greater price from his soul.
Aligning himself with such power and influence would obviously go against the
grain of the life of faith and service that he had thus far forged for himself
and his family.
I don’t think my
grandfather suffered any repercussions from his refusal of monetary support
from the Klan. Perhaps certain Klansmen might have used their influence to make
his life a little better off financially, but he chose instead to live a life
consistent with his core values.
Nationally, the
influence of the Klan quickly waned in the 1930s with the Great Depression. They
instead concentrated their efforts in the rural South rather than upon a
national agenda (3). Though racism remained rampant, most people were not willing
to accept the Klan’s message of hate and violence. By the 1960s, when Martin Luther
King, Jr. was leading marches in Montgomery, Selma, and Birmingham, though the
South resisted and the Klan in the South continued unabated, the nation as a
whole had enough of a conscience to realize that a change had to come.
Today, we are seeing once again a renewed effort by white supremacists to influence national policies. After Barack Obama was elected President in what many saw as a sign of racial progress, the nation erupted in a backlash of racism and hatred. We have seen the pendulum suddenly swing back, making it appear that the nation is ready to return to a day when white people may have lived free, but Black people lived in fear and oppression. The way ahead will probably not be easy, but what if a few people can live by higher values rather than capitulating to authoritarian hatred and violence? What if a few people of faith can resist buying into an unholy political alliance? Better yet, what if a significant number of people can answer to a higher calling? What if we decide to do what is right for the common good rather than seeking to preserve our own self-interests?
__________________
1. From “The Ku Klux
Klan in Alabama from 1915-1930,” The Encyclopedia of Alabama, at
http://encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-3221.
2. See “When the KKK
Was Mainstream,” NPR History Dept. at https://www.npr.org/sections/npr-history-dept/2015/03/19/390711598/when-the-ku-klux-klan-was-mainstream.
3. For a concise presentation of the history of the Ku Klux Klan, see "The History of the KKK in American Politics," JSTOR Daily where news meets its scholarly match at https://daily.jstor.org/history-kkk-american-politics/.
So proud of your grandfather, Charlie. You've told the story very well!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing, Charlie. I am enjoying your series on Growing Up under Southern Apartheid. My grandfather, who died in 1943, was a merchant. His store was a favorite of the Black Community because he was known for "treating them decent", unlike some other merchants in our town. I am thankful that there were folks in the South who were doing their part to resist the apartheid trend.
ReplyDeleteThoughtful blog, thanks for sharing
ReplyDelete