I remember as a young girl going to my grandmother's home town with her every other summer. We would get up early in the morning, and my grandmother would have food packed in a basket and sodas in an ice chest. We would tell my grandfather, parents, and siblings goodbye. Although the ride was long, my grandmother would talk about the adventure we were about to take. My cousin Angela and I couldn’t wait to leave Los Angeles, California and head to Montgomery, Alabama. I loved going to the south to visit my family especially my cousins. Half way between our destination, we would spend a couple of days at my great-aunt's home in Houston to rest and replenish our treat chest as my grandmother would call it. When we arrived at my aunt’s home in Montgomery, I felt different but did not know why. When we came to visit family members showed up from other towns in Alabama and Georgia to see us. Everyone in my family ran their own business even the women. My Uncle Richard was a registered pharmacist who owned a pharmacy in the Black business district. My Aunt Ethel had her own business she was a tailor and also did upholstery. Uncle Jack and Aunt Francis owned a construction company. Another relative named Romie ran a family owned a grocery store. Little did I know, all these people had a hand in changing American history? Aunt Georgia would serve meals to the church’s and people participating in the Montgomery Bus Boycott.
While all the other children played, I found myself staying in the house with the older women. I helped with the cooking and cleaning. I listened one night as my aunts were asking my grandmother who was going to be the one amongst her immediate family to tell the story of our heritage. Each one stated the name of the person they wanted to have the privilege of doing so. My grandmother kept saying I don’t know I will let you all know the next trip. As the elders of the family began to reminisce about the previous years during the Montgomery Bus Boycott, I listened with shock and admiration.
I heard my Aunt Georgia talking about the money she had contributed to the church during the time of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. Tiny, as everyone called my aunt, did many odd jobs to earn this money. While aware that she worked as a midwife, I never knew her to do anything but that. When delivering babies were few, she took a job working as a cook at a restaurant. Unfortunately, she was fired because of her participation in the boycott. I also learned that her nickname of “Tiny” was given to her by Reverend Martin L. King Jr. No one knew why because she was very boisterous and overweight, but the name stuck. Dr. King suggested she open her own business out of her home, which she did. Her in-home restaurant was very successful; even Robert Kennedy enjoyed meals there.
My Uncle Richard also played an important role during this time. He was a Captain with the 99th Squadron of the Tuskegee Airman during World War II. Uncle Richard would work as a dispatcher assigning cars to locations during the boycott while filling prescriptions. Uncle Richard lived in the middle of the neighborhood and would open his home to Freedom Riders. It was during this trip I would realize the significance of the neighborhood. My Aunt Ethel lived across the street from the Ben Moore Hotel, which was home to Robert Kennedy, when he would visit the area, and Dr. Martin L. King lived on the corner of the street. I remember Aunt Ethel recounting how her home shook during the bombing of Dr. King’s house in 1956.
As a child, I noticed the people coming to my aunt's house on Jackson Street. I noticed how closely knit these people were, but it wasn’t until I grew up to appreciate the history of my family. It is ironic my Aunt Ethel was Cornelia Wallace’s tailor in the years after the bus boycott. Her husband, George, at that time, was the Governor of Alabama. My aunt thought; Cornelia Wallace was a nice lady. Despite Governor Wallace’s history of blocking the front doors of the University of Alabama to keep African Americans students from entering the college. He would often extend her an invitation to come eat at their home time had changed him. The memories of my grandmother with her siblings laughing and showing respect for each other always gives me a wonderful feeling inside. When I think about my relatives who participated in this historical event 59 years ago I remember the pride and honor they shared. I feel blessed being surrounded by such a magnificent group of heroes.
I am now the one who will pass these stories down to the next generation. I have wondered if I would have been as strong as this group of people. When I see these young people today who are disrespectful, with their pants around their ankles, it makes me sad. They take for granted how their civil liberties were earned and the people who fought, suffered and died. I had the privilege of knowing those who worked hard to leave a legacy and because of that, I work hard to live up to their expectations.