Under the Baobab: On the anniversary of the March on Washington, keep your minds on freedom

Because of the pandemic, the 57th anniversary of the March on Washington will be celebrated virtually instead of in MLK Plaza as it was last year. It may be difficult drawing a good crowd. One of the organizers, a young leader of Black Lives Matter asked me, “How did the leaders get 250,000 people to march in Washington in 1963?”

The leaders didn’t. The people did.

In 1963 our church group arrived on the overnight train from Chicago. Inside the station, police and soldiers were lined up shoulder to shoulder. Some had fixed bayonets. As we came through the station, someone started to sing, “Woke up this morning with my mind stayed on freedom.” Frightened, we joined in. Outside the station the street was filled with thousands of people. At that time, it was the largest demonstration ever held in D.C.

There were six leaders of the March: A. Phillip Randolph, head of the Brotherhood of the Sleeping Car Porters; James Farmer of CORE; Rev. King of SCLC; Roy Wilkins of the NAACP; Whitney Young of the Urban League; and John Lewis of SNCC, the 23-year-old radical of the six. They arrived late for the March. So, with a thousand leaders instead of six, we walked to the Lincoln Memorial.

It was already a sacred place. In 1939 when the DAR denied Marian Anderson use of Constitution Hall because of her race, Eleanor Roosevelt arranged for her to give a concert at the Lincoln Memorial. I found a place to sit on the left edge of the Reflecting Pool so I could see the stage. I put my hot, tired feet in the cool water. I sat in the same place for President Obama’s inauguration. We broke out the fried chicken and potato salad.

The big six spoke. Floyd McKissick read Farmer’s speech. Others spoke: Rabbi Joachim Prinz, president of The American Jewish Congress; Walter Reuther, president of the United Autoworkers Union; Mathew Ahmann, head of the National Catholic Conference. Bayard Rustin, Randolph’s chief assistant, didn’t speak. The organizers thought he might be “gay baited.” As I remember, only two women spoke. Daisy Bates of the Little Rock Nine said a few words and Lena Horne, the jazz singer/activist shouted one word — “Freedom!” She was one of the people Harry Belafonte had brought from Hollywood along with Sidney Poitier, Marlon Brando, Paul Newman, Joanne Woodward, Diahann Carroll, Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, and Charlton Heston in his pre-NRA days.

Pete Seeger, who later became our dear friend in upstate New York, performed. Marian Anderson returned to her place of triumph to sing. Gospel legend Mahalia Jackson sang “How I Got Over.” Joan Baez led the crowds in several verses of “We Shall Overcome” and “Oh Freedom.” Odetta sang “I’m On My Way.” Bob Dylan performed “When the Ship Comes In” and “Only a Pawn in Their Game.” Peter, Paul and Mary sang “If I Had a Hammer” and “Blowin’ in the Wind.” (Years later our daughter, Alexandra, would marry Mary Travis’ nephew.) During the day, word got around that W.E.B. Dubois had died the night before. DuBois, the first Black Ph.D from Harvard and founder of the NAACP had been the leading Black intellectual of the first half of the 20th century. Roy Wilkins asked for a moment of silence.

The day unfolded like a church service. The blessings of the holy spirit pouring down like a “mighty stream.” There were no video screens. We couldn’t see much but we could hear everything. Rev. King was one of the last speakers. He had been the leader of the Montgomery Bus Boycott back in 1955 and co-organizer of the demonstrations that spring in Birmingham. He began in the soft slow cadence of a Black Baptist preacher. Looking at our watches, some of us started thinking of the train ride home. It had been a long day. I learned later, Mahalia Jackson, referring to an earlier speech, said, “Tell them about the dream, Martin.”

“I have a dream,” he continued. By the end of his speech, those who had been sitting were standing. Those who were standing were soaring.

“With this faith I return to the South. ... Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, we are free at last.”

In that moment we felt free of bigotry and despair. We were free of degradation, free of oppression, free of self-doubt. In that moment, institutional racism, which had sprung from the loins of chattel slavery, was revealed for what it was — a stillborn monster which no longer had the power to oppress us. The KKK and White Citizen Councils were exposed for what they were, sheet draped archaic clowns, who could no more stop our freedom train than the clouds could contain the rain. The arc of the universe was truly bending toward justice. We departed as we had arrived, singing Freedom songs.

Sadly, we were not the only ones energized. Two weeks later the KKK planted a bomb in 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama. Four little girls at Sunday school were killed: Addie Mae Collins, 14; Carol Denise McNair, 11; Carole Robertson, 14; and Cynthia Dionne Wesley, 14. One was actually decapitated in the explosion.

Two steps forward, one step back.

Stay strong, Sisters and Brothers. Keep your minds stayed on freedom.

If you go

What: Virtual Celebration: 57th March on Washington

When: 2-5 p.m. Friday

Where: https://www.strategiesjustice.com/watchparty

What’s happening: The virtual March on Washington, being held in lieu of the annual celebration at the Martin Luther King Jr. Plaza, will feature music, performances and short speeches that focus on specific issues of racial justice and aim to foster and champion positive change.