As I edit this, I note that 1045 newswires have written about this story. I say this story begins for me on the late night of May 28, 1959, when I boarded a passenger train in Munfordville, KY with 25 other 17-19 year old students and 3 adult sponsors from the Class of 1959. This train took us to New Orleans, arriving at the train station about 5:00 PM on May 29, 1959. The train was about 2 hours late and we were met at the station by about 5 or 6 cabs where we were taken to the St. Charles Hotel. Of the 26 still living can tell glorious stories about the 3 days spent in that grand city. We left on the train about 5:00 PM on June 1, 1959, heading back up the bayou to Biloxi, MS. The time we spent in Biloxi we travel on a bus. We teenagers would pile into the back seat and act obnoxious and the like. On one trip I noticed that black were standing although there were seat in the front for them to occupy. Finally a bus driver told Mr. Puckett the seats in the back are for the blacks. The language was a little more hash then.
As I remember my youth. Our school was segregated until 1958, extend one year by local politicians to get a badly needed tax passed. I realized I was brought up in this racist part of the world. The above mentioned incident lead me to believe this was a little different in Mississippi.
All my classmates on that trip were born a few days, weeks, or months before World War II. We were the late depression babies. The next year came the War Babies, then, five years later on came the Baby Bombers. Most thinkers on this subject we were the end of an era. Thinking changed forever. Access to money and Vietnam War were the factors.
Back to the story, we boarded the train about 8:00 PM June 4, 1959 to arrive In Munfordville about 11:30 AM on the June 5, 1959. I have had only cursory relationships with this group that I had so much fun with in the fifties.
As I went to college I had a professor from Alabama that was trying to explain all the marching and other racist crap going on down there. She was avoiding going home. Then came James Meredith, Medgar Everars, & Bull Conners.
On June 20, 1964 I was living in Magnolia, KY This story hit the Louisville Times shortly thereafter, I followed with a passion hard to describe. As I read each of the following stories in the next three year I always go back to the bus incident. In the seventies I met and worked with a man the knew the deputy that first arrested the three young men. This man was killed in a cherry picker about three years ago.
I moved to mississippi April 12,1993. A gentleman I met told me the racist issue now is like burning coals. It may go out or it may heat up burst into flames. I think this is still true.
I have written other stories about how things goarray when we believe God told told us to take action.
This http://weird-harolds.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=745&mode=thread&order=0&thold=0 is some things my mother told me. My experiences tell we should keep our religion out of our politics and our politics out of our religion it just works better. We sure have less of this type of history.
I must report that I had only been outside of KY three times before this trip
One to the Grand Ole Oprea
One to Cincinnati Zoo
University of Tennessee@ Martin
Not a lot of experience