Mayor's Spirit

I had the most delightful day on Tuesday: I was invited to our Mayor's Spirit luncheon at noon and then to the dedication of our Integration Historic Marker at 5:30.

The Mayor's Spirit luncheon has been held for 12 years now. Its intention is to gather people of all races together to celebrate the spirit of unity. The actual luncheon was held in City Hall, right in the room where meetings are held, and about 20 8-top rounds were squoze right in there. There was hardly room to walk between tables but that sort of made it more fun.

The speaker was an older gentleman who was the first to sit in the whites-only section of the local movie theater, which is no longer standing. A parking lot now sits between our newspaper building and a row of businesses, in downtown SmallTown.

He attended the local mostly-black college, and integration was an issue across the south at that time -- 1964. He and three buddies, also 3 "light" girls and the one white student, walked from the college to the theater. The 4 black fellows bought tickets for the upstairs, where blacks had to sit at that time, and the white guy and 3 "light" girls bought tickets for the downstairs, white-only section. Then, they traded tickets. The 4 lighter-complected folks went upstairs, and the four black fellows trooped into the main seating. Don't you know their hearts were pounding!!

The ticket lady called the manager and he begged the boys not to proceed. He did not want a scene. The young men assured them they were entirely peaceful; they felt it was time for integration to come to SmallTown. The manager pled with them; he was retiring soon and they could cause a scene in only a month. But the group had walked all that way with this one intention, and they were pretty determined.

So the manager called the police. The boys were arrested. Apparently the lighter-skinned folks' invasion of the upstairs was not against the law. They were not arrested.

The boys went to the jailhouse. They were told to stand outside until the back door could be unlocked.

The man, in recounting the story, recalled the irony of being arrested and then being told to stand outside the jail.

Inside, they sang and prayed until their college president bailed them out in the morning. The theater integrated within 2 weeks and the rest of the town followed that year.

The man is a pastor in Buffalo, NY, and flew down for the day. He stands about 5'5" tall, and wears a large white collar to denote his profession. He walks with a cane, but stands proudly and told his story with a great deal of gentle humor to relieve the tension of the story. It was a great story and I felt so lucky to hear it first-hand.

That afternoon, we all met again, this time at the site of the theater, where a large bronze plaque had been set into the sidewalk commemorating the activity at the theater. At the top was a short poem written in 1924 by a local black guy that went something like this:

"You can write a tune of sorts on the black keys;
You can write a tune of sorts on the white keys;
But it takes both keys to make a harmony."

In the center of the plaque was a condensed version of the story and across the bottom of the plaque are raised piano keys. The plaque was unveiled, photos were taken, and we walked across the street to a reception.

This small city has a public art committee that is developing about 50 similar plaques to spread all across the town. At some point in the future, you will be able to get a booklet from the tourism office, and follow the history of the city by following the trail of plaques from here to there and back again.

It was a very nice affair and I will remember it always.