During the early-to-mid twentieth century, swimming pools and beaches were among the most segregated public spaces in the country.[3] White residents of Indianapolis advocated for segregation of public pools by spreading false rumors that African American swimmers would spread diseases to white swimmers and by perpetuating the stereotype that allowing African American men into integrated swimming areas would pose a threat to white women’s safety.[4]
Additionally, Indianapolis city leaders feared that integrated pools would lead to violence among white and African American pool-goers. This fear was not unfounded, for white residents staged many attacks on African American patrons at swimming pools. In Cincinnati, for example, white attackers installed nails at the bottom of swimming pools to prevent African American patrons from swimming. White assailants in St. Augustine, Florida poured bleach and acid into pools occupied by African American swimmers. These incidents of racial violence were met with major protests in cities including Baltimore, Washington D.C. and Louisville. Although the violent outbreaks at swimming pools were incited by white pool-goers, African Americans were often blamed for the disorder. The fear of such unrest caused park owners to either ban admittance to African Americans or admit African Americans at their discretion, based on the “safety risks” the patrons presented.[5]
It was not until 1964 that the Civil Rights Act desegregated public swimming pools and parks. Although the law called for integration of swimming pools, some municipalities created clubs with membership fees to prevent African American patrons from entering. Others simply closed the city pools and filled them with concrete. During the 1960s and 1970s, many White families left Indianapolis in favor of neighborhoods outside the city. The rise of these affluent neighborhoods saw a dramatic increase in the number of gated communities, homeowners’ associations, and informally segregated private pools. As private swimming pools became more popular, cities began to decrease their funding to public recreational facilities, further preventing African American patrons from enjoying these amenities.[6]
Longacre Swimming Pool and Park, once a glaring example of Indianapolis’ segregated swimming pool policy, is now Longacre Mobile Home Park. Rufus Dodrill Jr., the second owner of the park, began developing the mobile home park in the 1960s with the hope that residents would frequent the pool and park amenities. As more Hoosiers invested in air conditioning and home pools and attendance dwindled, however, the cost of maintaining the facility became too heavy a burden.[7] Dodrill sold the facility in 1972, and the enormous pool was plowed a few years later.[8] All that remains of the impressive recreation park now are Longacre Mobile Home Park and the park’s original lake.[9]
]]>Longacre Swimming Pool was once a popular spot for summer recreation in Indianapolis. Established by attorney Edwin Thompson in 1927, the pool was located on the southside of the city and was urban stop 6 on Madison Avenue. Longacre Swimming Pool was the centerpiece of Longacre Park, a massive recreational area that boasted baseball diamonds, basketball courts, tennis courts, picnic areas, a golf fairway, croquet, pony rides, a sand beach, paddle boats, a dance hall, and a playground.[1] The park’s impressive swimming pool was 400 feet long and 185 feet wide and was naturally supplied by Lick Creek.[2] Although Longacre Swimming Pool and Park are remembered fondly by many residents of Indianapolis as places for summertime fun, the history of the facility is plagued by discrimination. Like most public pools and recreational facilities in Indianapolis at the time, Longacre Swimming Pool enforced segregation and barred African American families from enjoying its many amenities.
During the early-to-mid twentieth century, swimming pools and beaches were among the most segregated public spaces in the country.[3] White residents of Indianapolis advocated for segregation of public pools by spreading false rumors that African American swimmers would spread diseases to white swimmers and by perpetuating the stereotype that allowing African American men into integrated swimming areas would pose a threat to white women’s safety.[4]
Additionally, Indianapolis city leaders feared that integrated pools would lead to violence among white and African American pool-goers. This fear was not unfounded, for white residents staged many attacks on African American patrons at swimming pools. In Cincinnati, for example, white attackers installed nails at the bottom of swimming pools to prevent African American patrons from swimming. White assailants in St. Augustine, Florida poured bleach and acid into pools occupied by African American swimmers. These incidents of racial violence were met with major protests in cities including Baltimore, Washington D.C. and Louisville. Although the violent outbreaks at swimming pools were incited by white pool-goers, African Americans were often blamed for the disorder. The fear of such unrest caused park owners to either ban admittance to African Americans or admit African Americans at their discretion, based on the “safety risks” the patrons presented.[5]
It was not until 1964 that the Civil Rights Act desegregated public swimming pools and parks. Although the law called for integration of swimming pools, some municipalities created clubs with membership fees to prevent African American patrons from entering. Others simply closed the city pools and filled them with concrete. During the 1960s and 1970s, many White families left Indianapolis in favor of neighborhoods outside the city. The rise of these affluent neighborhoods saw a dramatic increase in the number of gated communities, homeowners’ associations, and informally segregated private pools. As private swimming pools became more popular, cities began to decrease their funding to public recreational facilities, further preventing African American patrons from enjoying these amenities.[6]
Longacre Swimming Pool and Park, once a glaring example of Indianapolis’ segregated swimming pool policy, is now Longacre Mobile Home Park. Rufus Dodrill Jr., the second owner of the park, began developing the mobile home park in the 1960s with the hope that residents would frequent the pool and park amenities. As more Hoosiers invested in air conditioning and home pools and attendance dwindled, however, the cost of maintaining the facility became too heavy a burden.[7] Dodrill sold the facility in 1972, and the enormous pool was plowed a few years later.[8] All that remains of the impressive recreation park now are Longacre Mobile Home Park and the park’s original lake.[9]
Since Gary’s founding by the United States Steel Corporation in 1906, the city’s public schools had been segregated by residential boundaries and school board policies. As the African American population began to grow during the 1920s, African American families were sequestered into crowded, low-income neighborhoods. “The Patch,” later named Midtown, was one such neighborhood. The only school in The Patch, located on Virginia Street, could not meet the needs of its many students and was overcrowded by the late 1920s. In an effort to alleviate the school and push educational reform, Superintendent Wirt decided to allow 18 African American honor roll students to transfer to Emerson High School.[4]
On September 19, 1927, the 18 African American students entered Emerson High School for the first time. Superintendent Wirt did not expect the strong backlash that quickly followed. Within the first week, the new students began receiving harsh threats from their white classmates. According to former student Hazel Bratton Sanders, “the white students would line up on both sides of the sidewalk and stretch their arms over us.” As the African American students were forced to walk under them like an arch they yelled insults like “'Go away, darkies. This isn't your school.'”[5] The students were also subject to verbal abuse, and many were pushed and spit on by white students.[6]
Fearing that the admittance of the African American students would lead to more integration, white students and families planned a mass demonstration. On September 26, 1927, approximately 600 white students staged a school walkout at Emerson High School and refused to return until the African American students were removed. Protests continued for multiple days, and by Wednesday, over 1350 participants were involved.[7] Superintendent Wirt attempted to threaten the strikers, but the all-white school board sided with the demonstrators. The protests ended when the school board struck a deal with white protesters. Rather than integrating Emerson High School, the city would build an all-African American school and send the African American students back to their old school in “The Patch.”[8]
Three students appealed the decision to gain re-admittance into Emerson High School, but their appeal was denied. The new school for African American students, Theodore Roosevelt High School, was built in the center of Midtown and opened in 1931. For the students mistreated at Emerson in 1927, Roosevelt High School came too late. Although Roosevelt was a beautiful facility with many amenities, the decision to build the all-African American school in favor of integrating existing schools perpetuated the segregation of Gary public schools.[9]
Emerson High School was officially integrated in 1948, but the trauma sustained by the African American students never faded.[10] Due to Superintendent Wirt’s pioneering work in educational reform, Emerson High School has been deemed historically significant and was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1995.[11] Declining enrollment in the 1970s, was the impetus for the transition into a magnet school in the early 1980s. With inadequate funds to maintain the building, the school board made the difficult decision to close Emerson School for the Visual and Performing Arts in 2008, just one year shy of the building’s centennial anniversary. Since its closure, the historic school has stood empty, quickly decaying due to the weather and vandalism.[12] While the building is listed under the National Register, there are currently no plans to restore the Emerson High School.[13]
]]>Ralph Waldo Emerson High School was the first high school built in Gary, Indiana. Emerson High School was constructed in 1909 by St. Louis architect William Ittner.[1] William A. Wirt, superintendent of Gary school systems, played a large part in designing the building. Desiring to implement his innovative “Work-Study-Play” philosophy of education, in which students took vocational and athletic classes along with traditional high school courses, Wirt required the building to contain amenities such a foundry, large gymnasium, and printing shop. The three-story school building was intended to be a “total learning environment,” separated physically from the growing industrial city by a park and surrounding athletic fields.[2] While the design and teaching methods employed at Emerson were cutting edge for the time period, the school largely failed to provide for the educational needs of Gary’s growing population. Upholding policies of segregation, the school prevented most African Americans from joining the student body. In 1927, when 18 African American students transferred to Emerson High School, tensions boiled over, and white students staged a school walkout to protest the admittance of their African American classmates.[3]
Since Gary’s founding by the United States Steel Corporation in 1906, the city’s public schools had been segregated by residential boundaries and school board policies. As the African American population began to grow during the 1920s, African American families were sequestered into crowded, low-income neighborhoods. “The Patch,” later named Midtown, was one such neighborhood. The only school in The Patch, located on Virginia Street, could not meet the needs of its many students and was overcrowded by the late 1920s. In an effort to alleviate the school and push educational reform, Superintendent Wirt decided to allow 18 African American honor roll students to transfer to Emerson High School.[4]
On September 19, 1927, the 18 African American students entered Emerson High School for the first time. Superintendent Wirt did not expect the strong backlash that quickly followed. Within the first week, the new students began receiving harsh threats from their white classmates. According to former student Hazel Bratton Sanders, “the white students would line up on both sides of the sidewalk and stretch their arms over us.” As the African American students were forced to walk under them like an arch they yelled insults like “'Go away, darkies. This isn't your school.'”[5] The students were also subject to verbal abuse, and many were pushed and spit on by white students.[6]
Fearing that the admittance of the African American students would lead to more integration, white students and families planned a mass demonstration. On September 26, 1927, approximately 600 white students staged a school walkout at Emerson High School and refused to return until the African American students were removed. Protests continued for multiple days, and by Wednesday, over 1350 participants were involved.[7] Superintendent Wirt attempted to threaten the strikers, but the all-white school board sided with the demonstrators. The protests ended when the school board struck a deal with white protesters. Rather than integrating Emerson High School, the city would build an all-African American school and send the African American students back to their old school in “The Patch.”[8]
Three students appealed the decision to gain re-admittance into Emerson High School, but their appeal was denied. The new school for African American students, Theodore Roosevelt High School, was built in the center of Midtown and opened in 1931. For the students mistreated at Emerson in 1927, Roosevelt High School came too late. Although Roosevelt was a beautiful facility with many amenities, the decision to build the all-African American school in favor of integrating existing schools perpetuated the segregation of Gary public schools.[9]
Emerson High School was officially integrated in 1948, but the trauma sustained by the African American students never faded.[10] Due to Superintendent Wirt’s pioneering work in educational reform, Emerson High School has been deemed historically significant and was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1995.[11] Declining enrollment in the 1970s, was the impetus for the transition into a magnet school in the early 1980s. With inadequate funds to maintain the building, the school board made the difficult decision to close Emerson School for the Visual and Performing Arts in 2008, just one year shy of the building’s centennial anniversary. Since its closure, the historic school has stood empty, quickly decaying due to the weather and vandalism.[12] While the building is listed under the National Register, there are currently no plans to restore the Emerson High School.[13]
The first service was held in the newly constructed Gary Methodist Church on October 3, 1926. After only a year, the congregation at Gary Methodist Church had grown to include over 1,700 individuals. The congregation reached its peak in the 1950s with over 3,000 members.[6] Despite Gary Methodist Church’s location in the heart of Gary’s industrial community, the congregation remained largely middle-class and white for its entire existence. Pastor Seaman sought integration and claimed that the church had the responsibility to minister to the immigrant populations and African American residents of Gary. He encouraged diverse civil and religious gatherings and hosted a race relations service in 1927, where members of nearby African American churches visited Gary Methodist Church to share services. Pastor Seaman’s beliefs about race were paternalistic however, and he believed that only white citizens should serve as leaders in the church. Although Pastor Seaman held racist beliefs himself, his admonishment of the Ku Klux Klan and aims to promote diversity provoked disdain in many white church members. As a result, Pastor Seaman was forced from Gary Methodist Church and transferred to an Ohio ministry in 1929.[7]
After Pastor Seaman’s expulsion, Gary Methodist Church ministered less to the city’s African American and immigrant populations. While few African Americans had actually attended church at Gary Methodist Church when Seaman was pastor, Seaman Hall had been utilized as a place for social gatherings and events. As the challenging years of the Great Depression and World War II threw Gary’s citizens into turmoil, churches became instrumental support services. Gary Methodist Church provided public relief and entertainment, such as theater shows and musical performances on Seaman Hall’s beautiful stage, but the events were likely restricted to white workers of Gary.[8]
While Gary Methodist Church made a few half-hearted attempts to promote membership among immigrant and African American families through events like Race Relations Sundays, the church did not come close to fulfilling Pastor Seaman’s mission of diversity until Reverend S. Walton Cole took over leadership. Under Reverend Cole’s pastorship, church members were encouraged to confront their own prejudices and welcome new members from diverse backgrounds. Reverend Cole was awarded the first Roy Wilkins award by the NAACP for his work promoting civil rights.[9]
The push to expand and revitalize Gary Methodist Church did not last long, however. For decades, the church had been dwindling in attendance. Following World War II, there were large number of layoffs in the steel working industry.[10] By 1973, most white families had moved to suburbs outside of Gary, and only around 320 members remained a part of the congregation. As the neighborhoods around Gary Methodist Church started being occupied by African American families, the church was unable to draw new members. Segregated since its construction in 1926, the church could not escape its history of discrimination. In addition to its shrinking congregation, the church became unable to foot the great cost of maintaining the massive building. After only 50 years of use, the Gary Methodist Church finally closed its doors in 1975.[11]
Gary Methodist Church, once the most magnificent church building in the Midwest, now stands in ruins. Seaman Hall was used as a satellite campus of Indiana University for a time, but the sanctuary was completely abandoned. Unattended, weathering the elements, the church quickly fell into disrepair. The damage was made worse when a fire destroyed parts of the building in 1997. In 2008, a large section of the roof caved, leaving only the shell of the structure.[12] Only as recently as 2019 was the church site granted a historical marker, signifying the great mark it left on the city of Gary.[13] Currently, the city is planning to transform the area around the church into a park and keep Gary Methodist Church as a historical centerpiece.[14]
]]>Constructed in 1925, Gary Methodist Church once towered as the largest Methodist Church in the Midwest.[1] Originally named City Church, the impressive structure is located on 6th Avenue and Washington Street.[2] Development of the church was headed by Dr. William Grant Seaman, who had served as the pastor of Gary Methodist Church since 1916. Pastor Seaman intended the new building to serve as a place of religious revival for Gary’s citizens. Disliking the prominence of brothels and bars in the area, he hoped that the church would be the first step in shifting the community’s focus back to Christian culture and religion and building a larger congregation. U.S. Steel, the primary provider of jobs in Gary at the time, donated the plot of land and half the money needed for construction, approximately $400,000 of the $800,000 total cost. A well-known and reputable company, Lowe and Bollenbacher constructed the building in 21 months.[3] Once completed, the Gothic nine-story church contained stained glass windows, a magnificent vaulted sanctuary, oak-carved chancel and altar, and four-manual Skinner organ donated by Elbert Gary.[4] Seaman Hall, the second building on the property, included a fellowship hall, staff offices, a kitchen and dining area, a gymnasium, Sunday school rooms, a theater-sized screen, and a stage for concerts and community productions.[5]
The first service was held in the newly constructed Gary Methodist Church on October 3, 1926. After only a year, the congregation at Gary Methodist Church had grown to include over 1,700 individuals. The congregation reached its peak in the 1950s with over 3,000 members.[6] Despite Gary Methodist Church’s location in the heart of Gary’s industrial community, the congregation remained largely middle-class and white for its entire existence. Pastor Seaman sought integration and claimed that the church had the responsibility to minister to the immigrant populations and African American residents of Gary. He encouraged diverse civil and religious gatherings and hosted a race relations service in 1927, where members of nearby African American churches visited Gary Methodist Church to share services. Pastor Seaman’s beliefs about race were paternalistic however, and he believed that only white citizens should serve as leaders in the church. Although Pastor Seaman held racist beliefs himself, his admonishment of the Ku Klux Klan and aims to promote diversity provoked disdain in many white church members. As a result, Pastor Seaman was forced from Gary Methodist Church and transferred to an Ohio ministry in 1929.[7]
After Pastor Seaman’s expulsion, Gary Methodist Church ministered less to the city’s African American and immigrant populations. While few African Americans had actually attended church at Gary Methodist Church when Seaman was pastor, Seaman Hall had been utilized as a place for social gatherings and events. As the challenging years of the Great Depression and World War II threw Gary’s citizens into turmoil, churches became instrumental support services. Gary Methodist Church provided public relief and entertainment, such as theater shows and musical performances on Seaman Hall’s beautiful stage, but the events were likely restricted to white workers of Gary.[8]
While Gary Methodist Church made a few half-hearted attempts to promote membership among immigrant and African American families through events like Race Relations Sundays, the church did not come close to fulfilling Pastor Seaman’s mission of diversity until Reverend S. Walton Cole took over leadership. Under Reverend Cole’s pastorship, church members were encouraged to confront their own prejudices and welcome new members from diverse backgrounds. Reverend Cole was awarded the first Roy Wilkins award by the NAACP for his work promoting civil rights.[9]
The push to expand and revitalize Gary Methodist Church did not last long, however. For decades, the church had been dwindling in attendance. Following World War II, there were large number of layoffs in the steel working industry.[10] By 1973, most white families had moved to suburbs outside of Gary, and only around 320 members remained a part of the congregation. As the neighborhoods around Gary Methodist Church started being occupied by African American families, the church was unable to draw new members. Segregated since its construction in 1926, the church could not escape its history of discrimination. In addition to its shrinking congregation, the church became unable to foot the great cost of maintaining the massive building. After only 50 years of use, the Gary Methodist Church finally closed its doors in 1975.[11]
Gary Methodist Church, once the most magnificent church building in the Midwest, now stands in ruins. Seaman Hall was used as a satellite campus of Indiana University for a time, but the sanctuary was completely abandoned. Unattended, weathering the elements, the church quickly fell into disrepair. The damage was made worse when a fire destroyed parts of the building in 1997. In 2008, a large section of the roof caved, leaving only the shell of the structure.[12] Only as recently as 2019 was the church site granted a historical marker, signifying the great mark it left on the city of Gary.[13] Currently, the city is planning to transform the area around the church into a park and keep Gary Methodist Church as a historical centerpiece.[14]
Most historically African American colleges and universities, such as Tuskegee University and Bethune-Cookman University, were established in the mid-to-late nineteenth century to provide valuable knowledge and skills to African Americans in order to promote equality and provide opportunities for formerly enslaved people. Although Martin University was established a century after many of these historical institutions, it was founded on the same values of freedom. Established in 1977, during a time when educational opportunities were limited for African Americans who lived in the inner city of Indianapolis, the original mission of the University was “to serve low-income, minority, and adult learners” in the Indianapolis community.[2]
Martin University is known for its home-like atmosphere, supportive staff, and dedication to service. The institution has produced over 1,500 alumni, many of whom have become recognized leaders in Indianapolis. Notable Martin University graduates include “a former Deputy Mayor for the City of Indianapolis, an Administrator for the Pike Township Fire Department, a former Marion County Sheriff, a Marion County Chaplain, a McDonald's Franchise Owner, a Pastor of a 16,000 member church, clergymen, social workers, daycare workers and owners, police officers, and published authors.”[3]
Co-founder Boniface Hardin was the first president of Martin University and led the institution from 1977 until he retired thirty years later in 2007. Under Hardin’s leadership, the small university earned accreditation and became a fixture in Indianapolis. Following Hardin’s retirement, Martin University went through a period of unstable leadership, as three presidents passed through the institution in a five-year period. The university had also been struggling with funding for many years, even during Hardin’s presidency, and by 2013, Martin University was in danger of closing.[4] The university desperately needed a strong and dedicated leader to restore its finances and credibility.
Dr. Eugene White, former superintendent of Indianapolis Public Schools and friend of Boniface Hardin, came out of retirement to assume the position of president of Martin University in August 2013. Under his stable leadership, the institution put a strategic plan in place to get out of debt and improve its standing with the government and local community. While the first years of White’s presidency were very challenging, with the cutting of programs and revaluation of everything from curriculum to budget, White found inspiration in the dedication of Martin University’s staff. Between 2013 and 2016, White’s strategic restoration plan successfully restructured the school and saved it from the brink of closure.[5]
Martin University celebrated the fortieth anniversary of its founding in 2017, a triumph made even greater by the institution’s recent rejuvenation. Dr. Sean L. Huddleston, former Vice President and Chief Equity & Inclusion Officer for the University of Indianapolis, succeeded Dr. Eugene White as president of Martin University in 2019.[6] The institution is currently working toward expanding its catalog of degree programs, providing salary increases to staff, and increasing its student population.[7] Martin University has long-served Indianapolis as an urban educational center of excellence and is on the path for continued growth in the coming years.[8]
]]>Martin University is Indiana’s only predominately African American institution of higher education. Founded by Reverend Father Boniface Hardin and Sister Jane Shilling in 1977, the private, non-for-profit university is named after two influential “Martins”: Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and St. Martin de Porres, a Peruvian saint who dedicated his life to serving the poor and became the first bi-racial Catholic saint. Originally located at 35th Street and College Avenue, Martin University is now situated on North Sherman Drive in the Martindale-Brightwood neighborhood of Indianapolis, Indiana.[1]
Most historically African American colleges and universities, such as Tuskegee University and Bethune-Cookman University, were established in the mid-to-late nineteenth century to provide valuable knowledge and skills to African Americans in order to promote equality and provide opportunities for formerly enslaved people. Although Martin University was established a century after many of these historical institutions, it was founded on the same values of freedom. Established in 1977, during a time when educational opportunities were limited for African Americans who lived in the inner city of Indianapolis, the original mission of the University was “to serve low-income, minority, and adult learners” in the Indianapolis community.[2]
Martin University is known for its home-like atmosphere, supportive staff, and dedication to service. The institution has produced over 1,500 alumni, many of whom have become recognized leaders in Indianapolis. Notable Martin University graduates include “a former Deputy Mayor for the City of Indianapolis, an Administrator for the Pike Township Fire Department, a former Marion County Sheriff, a Marion County Chaplain, a McDonald's Franchise Owner, a Pastor of a 16,000 member church, clergymen, social workers, daycare workers and owners, police officers, and published authors.”[3]
Co-founder Boniface Hardin was the first president of Martin University and led the institution from 1977 until he retired thirty years later in 2007. Under Hardin’s leadership, the small university earned accreditation and became a fixture in Indianapolis. Following Hardin’s retirement, Martin University went through a period of unstable leadership, as three presidents passed through the institution in a five-year period. The university had also been struggling with funding for many years, even during Hardin’s presidency, and by 2013, Martin University was in danger of closing.[4] The university desperately needed a strong and dedicated leader to restore its finances and credibility.
Dr. Eugene White, former superintendent of Indianapolis Public Schools and friend of Boniface Hardin, came out of retirement to assume the position of president of Martin University in August 2013. Under his stable leadership, the institution put a strategic plan in place to get out of debt and improve its standing with the government and local community. While the first years of White’s presidency were very challenging, with the cutting of programs and revaluation of everything from curriculum to budget, White found inspiration in the dedication of Martin University’s staff. Between 2013 and 2016, White’s strategic restoration plan successfully restructured the school and saved it from the brink of closure.[5]
Martin University celebrated the fortieth anniversary of its founding in 2017, a triumph made even greater by the institution’s recent rejuvenation. Dr. Sean L. Huddleston, former Vice President and Chief Equity & Inclusion Officer for the University of Indianapolis, succeeded Dr. Eugene White as president of Martin University in 2019.[6] The institution is currently working toward expanding its catalog of degree programs, providing salary increases to staff, and increasing its student population.[7] Martin University has long-served Indianapolis as an urban educational center of excellence and is on the path for continued growth in the coming years.[8]
As one of the last Northern states to officially desegregate public schools, Indiana has a long history of racial inequality in its educational systems. The move to integrate public schools came in 1949, only five years preceding the landmark 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision, when the Indiana General Assembly passed the Indiana School Desegregation Act in 1949.[2] Although the law required schools to start integrating, segregation persisted throughout the state due to residential zoning. South Bend’s public school system had never officially been segregated; however, the city enforced extremely discriminatory housing practices that made it very difficult for African Americans to become property owners, forced African American families into segregated neighborhoods, and perpetuated unofficial segregation in public schools.[3]
Even in school buildings that were officially integrated, African American students were often denied access to recreational facilities and discouraged from participating in school teams and clubs in South Bend.[4] These discriminatory practices caused African American students to feel unrepresented in their schools and culminated in a large public protest at Washington High School. In its coverage of the 1968 Washington High School walkout, The Reformer reported that one student demonstrator said, “We’ve been given frustration in place of equal representation.”[5] Despite the large African American population at Washington High School, African American students felt unable to participate fully in their school community. Marching out of the all-school pep assembly, over 200 students mobilized in order to upend the school’s prejudiced operations.
The year 1968 saw many school walkouts staged by students seeking to promote civil rights. The largest and most influential demonstration was the East Los Angeles School walkouts of March 1968.[6] It is likely that the 200 students who walked out of Washington High School on September 20, 1968 were inspired by this and similar walkouts earlier in the year.
]]>On September 20, 1968, 200 African American students staged a walkout at Washington High School in South Bend, Indiana. The walkout was a protest of the lack of representation of African Americans students in the school’s sports teams and extracurricular activities. The center of the conflict revolved around the fact that there was not a single African American cheerleader on Washington High School’s “all white” cheerleading squad. The walkout was organized and carried out by the Student Organization for Unity and Leadership (S.O.U.L.), a student-run organization that advocated for the representation of African American students in all areas of student life at Washington High School. Prior to the walkout, S.O.U.L. held two meetings to plan the demonstration at the LaSalle Park Center on Western Avenue. The pep assembly walkout involved many students and gained the attention of the South Bend African American newspaper The Reformer, where it made the front page of the September 29, 1968 edition.[1]
As one of the last Northern states to officially desegregate public schools, Indiana has a long history of racial inequality in its educational systems. The move to integrate public schools came in 1949, only five years preceding the landmark 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision, when the Indiana General Assembly passed the Indiana School Desegregation Act in 1949.[2] Although the law required schools to start integrating, segregation persisted throughout the state due to residential zoning. South Bend’s public school system had never officially been segregated; however, the city enforced extremely discriminatory housing practices that made it very difficult for African Americans to become property owners, forced African American families into segregated neighborhoods, and perpetuated unofficial segregation in public schools.[3]
Even in school buildings that were officially integrated, African American students were often denied access to recreational facilities and discouraged from participating in school teams and clubs in South Bend.[4] These discriminatory practices caused African American students to feel unrepresented in their schools and culminated in a large public protest at Washington High School. In its coverage of the 1968 Washington High School walkout, The Reformer reported that one student demonstrator said, “We’ve been given frustration in place of equal representation.”[5] Despite the large African American population at Washington High School, African American students felt unable to participate fully in their school community. Marching out of the all-school pep assembly, over 200 students mobilized in order to upend the school’s prejudiced operations.
The year 1968 saw many school walkouts staged by students seeking to promote civil rights. The largest and most influential demonstration was the East Los Angeles School walkouts of March 1968.[6] It is likely that the 200 students who walked out of Washington High School on September 20, 1968 were inspired by this and similar walkouts earlier in the year.
As early as the 1830s, the area that is now Ransom Place Neighborhood was identified as an African American settlement.[3] The land was originally developed by free African Americans and former slaves who moved north to find prosperity during the nineteenth century. This western section of Indianapolis, close to Fall Creek and the White River, was notoriously marshy and prone to flooding. The undesirable land was the only land that early African American settlers were permitted to purchase. Over the course of the nineteenth and early twentieth century, a thriving African American community formed in Ransom Place Neighborhood, and the area was converted into a residential area and profitable business district for African American families. Ransom Place Neighborhood was also the site of the first public housing project in Indianapolis, Lockefield Gardens.[4]
Many prominent professionals lived in Ransom Place Neighborhood, including African American community leaders, doctors, and attorneys. Churches, schools, and businesses provided for the needs of the residents.[5] Freeman Briley Ransom (1882-1947), the namesake of the neighborhood, lived with his family at 828 N. California St.[6] F. B. Ransom was a successful lawyer, business man, and civic leader who moved to Indianapolis in 1910. Most notably, Ransom served as the corporate attorney and manager of the Madam C. J. Walker Manufacturing Company, a pioneering African American cosmetics company. In addition to his legal work for Madam C. J. Walker, Ransom was an accomplished community leader who served as legal counsel for the Senate Avenue YMCA, Phyllis Wheatley YWCA, Indianapolis branch of the NAACP, and the Frederick Douglass Life Insurance Company, helped found the National Negro Business League and the Marion County Bar Association, and served on the Indianapolis City Council from 1939-1942.[7] F. B. Ransom’s son, Willard Ransom, was also a noted attorney and resident of Ransom Place Neighborhood.[8]
Ransom Place Neighborhood was expanded in 1945 when the Indianapolis Redevelopment Commission selected the area as its first redevelopment project. Helping repair houses in older parts of the neighborhood and constructing new homes in surrounding areas, the assistance of the Indianapolis Redevelopment Commission revitalized Ransom Place Neighborhood.[9] During the early 1960s, Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis (IUPUI) began buying property in order to develop a downtown Indianapolis campus. Between 1960 and 1980, IUPUI had obtained nearly 1,000 properties and had effectively surrounded Ransom Place Neighborhood.[10] The university’s pressures to redevelop the area for their own purposes, combined with the flight of many prominent African Americans to more prosperous Indianapolis neighborhoods in the early 1970s, led to a period of denigration for the historic neighborhood. In 1976, Lockefield Gardens, a major source of pride for Ransom Place’s community, was closed and converted into private apartments for IUPUI students.[11] Construction of the United Life Building in the 1980s removed a portion of Indiana Avenue, effectively blocking access from Ransom Place to downtown Indianapolis furthering marginalizing the African American community.[12]
Following a period of decline in the 1970s and early 1980s, Ransom Place Neighborhood was revitalized in the late 1980s when Jean Spears, an African American community leader who worked with the Indiana Avenue Association helped to renovate African American homes and businesses in Indianapolis, moved into 849 Camp Street in Ransom Place Neighborhood.[13] Spears started a campaign to promote the African American history of the neighborhood and, with a team of other community leaders, officially named the district Ransom Place Neighborhood in memory of the successful attorney Freedman Briley Ransom.[14] Following the naming, the Ransom Place Historic District was accredited by the Indiana Department of Natural Resources, and the Ransom Place Neighborhood was listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
While Ransom Place Neighborhood is protected as a historic landmark, many locals fear that the neighborhood- a symbol of African American persistence and ingenuity- could be erased by gentrification. With much of the land surrounding Ransom Place being developed for private businesses and apartments, it is becoming increasingly expensive for long-time residents to remain in the area. Unless the gentrification includes local African American families, many fear that the African American community that built and sustained the neighborhood for generations will disappear.[15]
]]>Ransom Place Neighborhood is a historic district located northwest of Monument Circle in the center of downtown Indianapolis. Bounded by 10th, St. Clair, West, and Camp Streets, this area includes subdivisions platted 1865 and 1871, and features historic homes built in the eclectic Queen Anne architectural style that was popular at the end of the nineteenth century. Ransom Place Neighborhood is considered the most intact neighborhood associated with the African American population of Indianapolis.[1] Named after prominent resident Freeman Briley Ransom, the district was listed in National Register of Historic Places in 1992.[2]
As early as the 1830s, the area that is now Ransom Place Neighborhood was identified as an African American settlement.[3] The land was originally developed by free African Americans and former slaves who moved north to find prosperity during the nineteenth century. This western section of Indianapolis, close to Fall Creek and the White River, was notoriously marshy and prone to flooding. The undesirable land was the only land that early African American settlers were permitted to purchase. Over the course of the nineteenth and early twentieth century, a thriving African American community formed in Ransom Place Neighborhood, and the area was converted into a residential area and profitable business district for African American families. Ransom Place Neighborhood was also the site of the first public housing project in Indianapolis, Lockefield Gardens.[4]
Many prominent professionals lived in Ransom Place Neighborhood, including African American community leaders, doctors, and attorneys. Churches, schools, and businesses provided for the needs of the residents.[5] Freeman Briley Ransom (1882-1947), the namesake of the neighborhood, lived with his family at 828 N. California St.[6] F. B. Ransom was a successful lawyer, business man, and civic leader who moved to Indianapolis in 1910. Most notably, Ransom served as the corporate attorney and manager of the Madam C. J. Walker Manufacturing Company, a pioneering African American cosmetics company. In addition to his legal work for Madam C. J. Walker, Ransom was an accomplished community leader who served as legal counsel for the Senate Avenue YMCA, Phyllis Wheatley YWCA, Indianapolis branch of the NAACP, and the Frederick Douglass Life Insurance Company, helped found the National Negro Business League and the Marion County Bar Association, and served on the Indianapolis City Council from 1939-1942.[7] F. B. Ransom’s son, Willard Ransom, was also a noted attorney and resident of Ransom Place Neighborhood.[8]
Ransom Place Neighborhood was expanded in 1945 when the Indianapolis Redevelopment Commission selected the area as its first redevelopment project. Helping repair houses in older parts of the neighborhood and constructing new homes in surrounding areas, the assistance of the Indianapolis Redevelopment Commission revitalized Ransom Place Neighborhood.[9] During the early 1960s, Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis (IUPUI) began buying property in order to develop a downtown Indianapolis campus. Between 1960 and 1980, IUPUI had obtained nearly 1,000 properties and had effectively surrounded Ransom Place Neighborhood.[10] The university’s pressures to redevelop the area for their own purposes, combined with the flight of many prominent African Americans to more prosperous Indianapolis neighborhoods in the early 1970s, led to a period of denigration for the historic neighborhood. In 1976, Lockefield Gardens, a major source of pride for Ransom Place’s community, was closed and converted into private apartments for IUPUI students.[11] Construction of the United Life Building in the 1980s removed a portion of Indiana Avenue, effectively blocking access from Ransom Place to downtown Indianapolis furthering marginalizing the African American community.[12]
Following a period of decline in the 1970s and early 1980s, Ransom Place Neighborhood was revitalized in the late 1980s when Jean Spears, an African American community leader who worked with the Indiana Avenue Association helped to renovate African American homes and businesses in Indianapolis, moved into 849 Camp Street in Ransom Place Neighborhood.[13] Spears started a campaign to promote the African American history of the neighborhood and, with a team of other community leaders, officially named the district Ransom Place Neighborhood in memory of the successful attorney Freedman Briley Ransom.[14] Following the naming, the Ransom Place Historic District was accredited by the Indiana Department of Natural Resources, and the Ransom Place Neighborhood was listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
While Ransom Place Neighborhood is protected as a historic landmark, many locals fear that the neighborhood- a symbol of African American persistence and ingenuity- could be erased by gentrification. With much of the land surrounding Ransom Place being developed for private businesses and apartments, it is becoming increasingly expensive for long-time residents to remain in the area. Unless the gentrification includes local African American families, many fear that the African American community that built and sustained the neighborhood for generations will disappear.[15]
In 1922, Andrew Means and his brother, Geter, created a homebuilding business with $90 and a borrowed typewriter. Means Brothers, Inc. became one of the Midwest’s largest African American real estate development companies.[4] The brothers created 11 housing developments with nearly 2000 homes and/or rental properties in Gary alone. They created homes for African Americans using African American employees and sub-contractors.[5] In addition to housing developments, Andrew Means also constructed the Gary First Baptist church, where he was a member, within the Andrew Means Park Manor neighborhood.[6]
Of all the housing the brothers developed, Andrew Means Park Manor, also known as “Means Manor”, was the most impactful to the Gary community and still exists today. The neighborhood consists of nearly 150 homes[7] including Andrews Means’ own home. At the time of construction in the early 1950s, Means Manor provided African American families safe affordable single family housing at a time when many neighborhoods did not welcome African Americans and Gary was deeply segregated.[8] Remembered by a former resident “I think the community flourished because everyone there was there under the same circumstances. A lot of the families that came, that lived in my neighborhood, their parents came from the South and they were there primarily because of the steel mills, because those were guaranteed jobs, that was guaranteed income.”[9] At the time of its construction, the homes in Means Manor were priced from $15,000 to $75,000.[10]
Means Manor is located in Gary’s Midtown neighborhood. When Means Manor was constructed, 97% of Gary’s African American population lived in the Midtown neighborhood. The neighborhood was mostly self-contained with many retail outlets as African Americans were excluded from Downtown Gary prior to desegregation in the 1960s and 1970s.[11] Means Manor remains as a legacy to Andrew Means and his brother’s achievements of providing affordable and equal housing to Gary’s African American community.
]]>Born in Alabama, Andrew Means graduated from the Tuskegee Institute in 1918. He studied under George Washington Carver and was befriended by Tuskegee Institute President Booker T. Washington. After graduation, Means spent a few years in the US Army and subsequently worked as a railroad porter.[1] Means then traveled north to Gary, Indiana, in order to work in the steel mills, a path taken by many African Americans at the time.[2] This influx of African Americans moving north for fair and equal jobs, and to escape segregation in the South was known as the Great Migration. From the 1910s to 1970, over 6 million African Americans from the rural South migrated to northern cities, including Gary.[3]
In 1922, Andrew Means and his brother, Geter, created a homebuilding business with $90 and a borrowed typewriter. Means Brothers, Inc. became one of the Midwest’s largest African American real estate development companies.[4] The brothers created 11 housing developments with nearly 2000 homes and/or rental properties in Gary alone. They created homes for African Americans using African American employees and sub-contractors.[5] In addition to housing developments, Andrew Means also constructed the Gary First Baptist church, where he was a member, within the Andrew Means Park Manor neighborhood.[6]
Of all the housing the brothers developed, Andrew Means Park Manor, also known as “Means Manor”, was the most impactful to the Gary community and still exists today. The neighborhood consists of nearly 150 homes[7] including Andrews Means’ own home. At the time of construction in the early 1950s, Means Manor provided African American families safe affordable single family housing at a time when many neighborhoods did not welcome African Americans and Gary was deeply segregated.[8] Remembered by a former resident “I think the community flourished because everyone there was there under the same circumstances. A lot of the families that came, that lived in my neighborhood, their parents came from the South and they were there primarily because of the steel mills, because those were guaranteed jobs, that was guaranteed income.”[9] At the time of its construction, the homes in Means Manor were priced from $15,000 to $75,000.[10]
Means Manor is located in Gary’s Midtown neighborhood. When Means Manor was constructed, 97% of Gary’s African American population lived in the Midtown neighborhood. The neighborhood was mostly self-contained with many retail outlets as African Americans were excluded from Downtown Gary prior to desegregation in the 1960s and 1970s.[11] Means Manor remains as a legacy to Andrew Means and his brother’s achievements of providing affordable and equal housing to Gary’s African American community.
African American communities throughout the country had long embraced the mission of the YMCA. Anthony Bowen, a freedman from Washington D.C., founded the first YMCA for African Americans in 1853. Although the YMCA movement was stalled by the social and financial hardship African Americans faced in many areas of the United States during nineteenth century, many cities had constructed African American YMCA branches by the early 1910s. These facilities served as meeting spots for African Americans to openly discuss politics, safe resting places for African American travelers, and learning centers where young African American men received education in business and management.[3]
In the early 1900s, almost all business and entertainment establishments in Gary were owned by white proprietors. Gary’s large African American community, prohibited from entering these establishments, was deprived of recreation facilities. At the recommendation of clergyman John W. Lee, who conducted a survey of the social and economic conditions of Gary’s African American neighborhoods for the Calumet Church Federation, Gary’s First Baptist Church established an African American YMCA community center at 19th Avenue and Washington Street in 1919.[4] This new symbol of recreation and opportunity only operated for a few short years, however, as the facility was forced to close when the Great Depression hit Gary. After the shuttering of the African American YMCA, pressure to integrate Gary’s main YMCA building mounted.[5]
The YMCA’s national policy of segregation ended in 1946 “when the National Council passed a resolution calling for local associations to ‘work steadfastly toward the goal of eliminating all racial discriminations,’ dissolved its Colored Work Department and abolished racial designations in all its publications.”[6] Local YMCAs responded to these institutional changes with varying degrees of compliance. At Gary’s branch of the YMCA, harsh segregation persisted for decades after the national policy of segregation ended. Clifford E. Minton, an active leader in Gary’s Civil Rights Movement and the long-time executive director of the Gary Urban League, spearheaded a campaign to integrate the facility.[7] Under Mayor George Chacharis, Minton successfully integrated Gary’s YMCA in the early 1960s.[8]
Unfortunately, Clifford Minton’s YMCA victory was short-lived, as the Gary YMCA closed only a few years after its integration. Facing competition from for-profit recreational centers, Gary’s YMCA was unable to stay afloat during the recession of the mid-1970s and shut down operations in 1976.[9] While the old YMCA building was demolished after the closure of the facility, postcards bearing its striking image can be viewed on the Digital Commonwealth website today.[10] The integration of Gary’s YMCA was only one of Clifford Minton’s many accomplishments as a Civil Rights leader and executive director of the Gary Urban League.
]]>Gary’s Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) was located in a massive stone building that faced north on Fifth Avenue. Funded by Elbert Gary and designed by architect Joseph Silsbee in 1909, the impressive structure served as a sporting and recreation center, dining facility, library, and temporary dormitory until its closure in 1976.[1] Although the YMCA was intended to provide entertainment and support for the young men of Gary, a large portion of Gary’s male population was excluded from enjoying the facility. The Gary YMCA, like many YMCAs throughout the United States, enforced strict segregation during the first half of the nineteenth century, barring African American men from membership. It was not until the 1960s that the Gary Urban League won the right to integrate Gary’s branch of the YMCA.[2]
African American communities throughout the country had long embraced the mission of the YMCA. Anthony Bowen, a freedman from Washington D.C., founded the first YMCA for African Americans in 1853. Although the YMCA movement was stalled by the social and financial hardship African Americans faced in many areas of the United States during nineteenth century, many cities had constructed African American YMCA branches by the early 1910s. These facilities served as meeting spots for African Americans to openly discuss politics, safe resting places for African American travelers, and learning centers where young African American men received education in business and management.[3]
In the early 1900s, almost all business and entertainment establishments in Gary were owned by white proprietors. Gary’s large African American community, prohibited from entering these establishments, was deprived of recreation facilities. At the recommendation of clergyman John W. Lee, who conducted a survey of the social and economic conditions of Gary’s African American neighborhoods for the Calumet Church Federation, Gary’s First Baptist Church established an African American YMCA community center at 19th Avenue and Washington Street in 1919.[4] This new symbol of recreation and opportunity only operated for a few short years, however, as the facility was forced to close when the Great Depression hit Gary. After the shuttering of the African American YMCA, pressure to integrate Gary’s main YMCA building mounted.[5]
The YMCA’s national policy of segregation ended in 1946 “when the National Council passed a resolution calling for local associations to ‘work steadfastly toward the goal of eliminating all racial discriminations,’ dissolved its Colored Work Department and abolished racial designations in all its publications.”[6] Local YMCAs responded to these institutional changes with varying degrees of compliance. At Gary’s branch of the YMCA, harsh segregation persisted for decades after the national policy of segregation ended. Clifford E. Minton, an active leader in Gary’s Civil Rights Movement and the long-time executive director of the Gary Urban League, spearheaded a campaign to integrate the facility.[7] Under Mayor George Chacharis, Minton successfully integrated Gary’s YMCA in the early 1960s.[8]
Unfortunately, Clifford Minton’s YMCA victory was short-lived, as the Gary YMCA closed only a few years after its integration. Facing competition from for-profit recreational centers, Gary’s YMCA was unable to stay afloat during the recession of the mid-1970s and shut down operations in 1976.[9] While the old YMCA building was demolished after the closure of the facility, postcards bearing its striking image can be viewed on the Digital Commonwealth website today.[10] The integration of Gary’s YMCA was only one of Clifford Minton’s many accomplishments as a Civil Rights leader and executive director of the Gary Urban League.
Juanita Grant has been described as a “bold and unique voice” in the early years of the Civil Rights era, who transformed her community in ways that can still be seen in Gary today.[2] Despite losing her mother at a young age and attending school at a time when it was difficult for African American students to find support in Indiana, Juanita Grant was an ambitious learner who earned her bachelor’s degree at Indiana State College in Terre Haute and her master’s degree in Social Work at Ball State University. As a resident of Gary and leader in the African American community, she co-founded and established the Jack and Jill of America Inc. chapter in Gary, organized local Girl Scouts and Brownies groups, and supported Gary’s historic Stewart Settlement House.[3] Benjamin Grant was also a very influential Civil Rights leader among Gary’s African American population. He was a lifetime member of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and served as the co-chair of Gary’s branch of the organization during the 1940s. A practicing physician and surgeon, Dr. Grant launched a campaign to advocate for the medical rights of African American medical professionals and patients.[4]
During the early twentieth century, medical facilities were heavily segregated in Indiana. African American doctors, nurses, and patients faced severe discrimination. In Indianapolis, training facilities for nurses were separated by race, and finding employment at a public hospital was virtually impossible for African American doctors. Indianapolis City Hospital, the only hospital in the Indianapolis that admitted African American patients, turned away African American doctors seeking internships and pressured African American nurses to receive training outside Indiana.
The hostility that African American doctors and nurses encountered was also felt by African American patients seeking medical care in Indianapolis. At Indianapolis City Hospital, African American patients were sequestered in a “Jim Crow wing” in the basement of the building, where they were often crowded into small areas and given inadequate care.[5] Segregation in the medical system was worse in other areas of Indiana, however, for outside the state capital, “there were no public hospitals in Indiana that admitted African Americans; blacks were entirely dependent on private medical institutions.”[6]
Like most hospitals outside of Indianapolis, Gary’s Mercy Hospital refused to admit African American patients when it first opened. Established in downtown Gary by the Gary Land Company in 1907, Mercy Hospital was a white-owned, private hospital staffed first by the Sisters of St. Francis and later by the Poor Handmaids of Jesus Christ.[7] It was not until the 1930s that Mercy Hospital began to accept African American patients, and even then, they were placed in segregated wards.[8] African American doctors employed at Mercy were denied admitting privileges.
As a practicing doctor in Gary, Benjamin Grant was aware of how limited medical resources were for the city’s large African American population. In 1945, with the help of his wife, Dr. Grant began lobbying to integrate Mercy Hospital and permit African American doctors admitting privileges. The Grant’s effort to provide better healthcare for Gary’s African American population was successful. In 1945, Mercy Hospital granted African American doctors admitting privileges, a move that provided Gary’s African American community with more access to medical care and better treatment within the hospital.[9]
In the immediate years after the hospital’s integration, Mercy Hospital thrived as Gary’s premier medical institution. The hospital trained nurses and interns, built specialized departments, and gained international recognition as the birthplace of musician Michael Jackson. As U.S. Steel jobs declined in the 1970s, Mercy Hospital began to suffer, as much of Gary’s white community relocated to neighboring cities. In an attempt to revitalize the medical facility, Mercy Hospital underwent a restructuring in the mid-1970s. The West Wing of the hospital was built, and Mercy Hospital was renamed St. Mary Medical Center. These updates, however, were not enough to stave off the decline of the aging building. By the early 1990s, St. Mary’s had lost millions of dollars and was in danger of closing.[10] In 1993, Summit Medical Management purchased St. Mary Medical Center, renaming it Northwest Family Hospital. After two years of economic loss and unsuccessful restructuring attempts, Summit “declared the situation terminal” and decided to close St. Mary Medical Center.[11] Although the Mercy Foundation fought to keep the hospital open, and private interests attempted to purchase the building, no one could afford to maintain costly hospital operations. In November 1995, St. Mary Medical Center was closed. While much of the building stands abandoned today, the newest addition of the hospital, the West Wing built in the mid-1970s, serves as the headquarters of Gary’s police department.[12] The remains of St. Mary Medical Center, or “Mercy” as longtime residents call it, stands as a monument to Gary’s oldest hospital and a legacy of the pioneering work of Juanita and Benjamin Grant.[13]
]]>Juanita C. Grant and her husband Benjamin F. Grant were community leaders who promoted racial equality in Gary, Indiana during the Civil Rights Movement. The Grants sought to improve conditions for the African American population of Gary by establishing community organizations, helping gain access to essential resources, and organizing a coalition of leaders to serve the city’s African American community. Most notably, Benjamin and Juanita Grant successfully lobbied Gary’s oldest hospital, Mercy Hospital (now St. Mary Medical Center) to allow African American doctors admitting privileges in 1945.[1]
Juanita Grant has been described as a “bold and unique voice” in the early years of the Civil Rights era, who transformed her community in ways that can still be seen in Gary today.[2] Despite losing her mother at a young age and attending school at a time when it was difficult for African American students to find support in Indiana, Juanita Grant was an ambitious learner who earned her bachelor’s degree at Indiana State College in Terre Haute and her master’s degree in Social Work at Ball State University. As a resident of Gary and leader in the African American community, she co-founded and established the Jack and Jill of America Inc. chapter in Gary, organized local Girl Scouts and Brownies groups, and supported Gary’s historic Stewart Settlement House.[3] Benjamin Grant was also a very influential Civil Rights leader among Gary’s African American population. He was a lifetime member of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and served as the co-chair of Gary’s branch of the organization during the 1940s. A practicing physician and surgeon, Dr. Grant launched a campaign to advocate for the medical rights of African American medical professionals and patients.[4]
During the early twentieth century, medical facilities were heavily segregated in Indiana. African American doctors, nurses, and patients faced severe discrimination. In Indianapolis, training facilities for nurses were separated by race, and finding employment at a public hospital was virtually impossible for African American doctors. Indianapolis City Hospital, the only hospital in the Indianapolis that admitted African American patients, turned away African American doctors seeking internships and pressured African American nurses to receive training outside Indiana.
The hostility that African American doctors and nurses encountered was also felt by African American patients seeking medical care in Indianapolis. At Indianapolis City Hospital, African American patients were sequestered in a “Jim Crow wing” in the basement of the building, where they were often crowded into small areas and given inadequate care.[5] Segregation in the medical system was worse in other areas of Indiana, however, for outside the state capital, “there were no public hospitals in Indiana that admitted African Americans; blacks were entirely dependent on private medical institutions.”[6]
Like most hospitals outside of Indianapolis, Gary’s Mercy Hospital refused to admit African American patients when it first opened. Established in downtown Gary by the Gary Land Company in 1907, Mercy Hospital was a white-owned, private hospital staffed first by the Sisters of St. Francis and later by the Poor Handmaids of Jesus Christ.[7] It was not until the 1930s that Mercy Hospital began to accept African American patients, and even then, they were placed in segregated wards.[8] African American doctors employed at Mercy were denied admitting privileges.
As a practicing doctor in Gary, Benjamin Grant was aware of how limited medical resources were for the city’s large African American population. In 1945, with the help of his wife, Dr. Grant began lobbying to integrate Mercy Hospital and permit African American doctors admitting privileges. The Grant’s effort to provide better healthcare for Gary’s African American population was successful. In 1945, Mercy Hospital granted African American doctors admitting privileges, a move that provided Gary’s African American community with more access to medical care and better treatment within the hospital.[9]
In the immediate years after the hospital’s integration, Mercy Hospital thrived as Gary’s premier medical institution. The hospital trained nurses and interns, built specialized departments, and gained international recognition as the birthplace of musician Michael Jackson. As U.S. Steel jobs declined in the 1970s, Mercy Hospital began to suffer, as much of Gary’s white community relocated to neighboring cities. In an attempt to revitalize the medical facility, Mercy Hospital underwent a restructuring in the mid-1970s. The West Wing of the hospital was built, and Mercy Hospital was renamed St. Mary Medical Center. These updates, however, were not enough to stave off the decline of the aging building. By the early 1990s, St. Mary’s had lost millions of dollars and was in danger of closing.[10] In 1993, Summit Medical Management purchased St. Mary Medical Center, renaming it Northwest Family Hospital. After two years of economic loss and unsuccessful restructuring attempts, Summit “declared the situation terminal” and decided to close St. Mary Medical Center.[11] Although the Mercy Foundation fought to keep the hospital open, and private interests attempted to purchase the building, no one could afford to maintain costly hospital operations. In November 1995, St. Mary Medical Center was closed. While much of the building stands abandoned today, the newest addition of the hospital, the West Wing built in the mid-1970s, serves as the headquarters of Gary’s police department.[12] The remains of St. Mary Medical Center, or “Mercy” as longtime residents call it, stands as a monument to Gary’s oldest hospital and a legacy of the pioneering work of Juanita and Benjamin Grant.[13]
In their protest, white students pleaded that Froebel High School become a school designated for white students only, threatening to transfer schools if their demands were not met.[2] As a result of the ongoing protest, Gary African American ministers of all faiths banded together to form the Interdenominational Ministerial Alliance (IMA) and defended the principal’s decision to maintain an integrated environment within the school.[3][4] The IMA released an appeal to Gary’s citizens, saying “It is indeed regrettable to note that after the nation has spent approximately 190 billion dollars, the colored citizens of Gary have sent about 4,000 of their sons, brothers, and husbands to battlefields around the world and have supported every war effort that our government has called upon us to support, in a united effort to destroy nazism and to banish from the face of the earth all that Hitler, Mussolini, and Tojo stood for; to find in our midst those who are endeavoring to spread disunity, race-hatred, and Hitlerism in our community.”[5]
Despite the support of the IMA in favor of the school’s integration decision, otherschools joined the walkout. The Gary Post-Tribune reported that some members of the Froebel neighborhood supported the strike as they “feel their homes and churches have depreciated in value” with the influx of African American home-owners in the neighborhood.[6] The hate strike lasted well into November, but threats to continue the strike lasted into the following year. On August 27, 1946, the Gary Board of Education issued a policy technically ending segregation. However, in all practicality segregation within Gary schools continued to exist, supported by discriminatory policies. Lower grades at Froebel School more quickly adjusted to integration, while in 1948, African American students in grades 8-12 at Froebel still faced persistent discrimination when it came to the swimming facilities, band, theater, class offices, and other extracurricular activities.[7]
In 1951, Froebel School enrolled 56% African American students. After a transfer policy was enacted that allowed children to transfer to other schools for “better social adjustment”, Froebel School enrollment was 95% African American by 1961, while the district it served was 65% African American. The transfer policy in effect allowed segregation to continue. Other practices, such as offering fewer academic courses, hiring less qualified teachers, and overcrowding at predominately African American schools, coupled with school feeding patterns based on race, perpetuated de facto segregation.[8]
Due to declining enrollment and after several reductions of grade levels served, Froebel School finally closed in 1977 as part of district cost-cutting measures. The location of Froebel School and its role in school desegregation is commemorated with an Indiana Historical Bureau marker.[9]
]]>Built in 1912, Froebel High School was one of the first schools in Gary, Indiana to accept African American students, decades before most other schools were desegregated. By 1944, approximately 40% of the school’s students were African American. Despite being an integrated school, African American students were still expected to remain in certain areas of the building, could not participate fully in extracurricular activities, and were often disliked and mistreated by many of their white classmates. Tensions continued to rise, until September 18, 1945 when around 1,400 white students took part in a massive walkout protest against the integration policies of Froebel High School.[1]
In their protest, white students pleaded that Froebel High School become a school designated for white students only, threatening to transfer schools if their demands were not met.[2] As a result of the ongoing protest, Gary African American ministers of all faiths banded together to form the Interdenominational Ministerial Alliance (IMA) and defended the principal’s decision to maintain an integrated environment within the school.[3][4] The IMA released an appeal to Gary’s citizens, saying “It is indeed regrettable to note that after the nation has spent approximately 190 billion dollars, the colored citizens of Gary have sent about 4,000 of their sons, brothers, and husbands to battlefields around the world and have supported every war effort that our government has called upon us to support, in a united effort to destroy nazism and to banish from the face of the earth all that Hitler, Mussolini, and Tojo stood for; to find in our midst those who are endeavoring to spread disunity, race-hatred, and Hitlerism in our community.”[5]
Despite the support of the IMA in favor of the school’s integration decision, otherschools joined the walkout. The Gary Post-Tribune reported that some members of the Froebel neighborhood supported the strike as they “feel their homes and churches have depreciated in value” with the influx of African American home-owners in the neighborhood.[6] The hate strike lasted well into November, but threats to continue the strike lasted into the following year. On August 27, 1946, the Gary Board of Education issued a policy technically ending segregation. However, in all practicality segregation within Gary schools continued to exist, supported by discriminatory policies. Lower grades at Froebel School more quickly adjusted to integration, while in 1948, African American students in grades 8-12 at Froebel still faced persistent discrimination when it came to the swimming facilities, band, theater, class offices, and other extracurricular activities.[7]
In 1951, Froebel School enrolled 56% African American students. After a transfer policy was enacted that allowed children to transfer to other schools for “better social adjustment”, Froebel School enrollment was 95% African American by 1961, while the district it served was 65% African American. The transfer policy in effect allowed segregation to continue. Other practices, such as offering fewer academic courses, hiring less qualified teachers, and overcrowding at predominately African American schools, coupled with school feeding patterns based on race, perpetuated de facto segregation.[8]
Due to declining enrollment and after several reductions of grade levels served, Froebel School finally closed in 1977 as part of district cost-cutting measures. The location of Froebel School and its role in school desegregation is commemorated with an Indiana Historical Bureau marker.[9]
The school included 22 classrooms, a gym, auditorium, sewing room, and other vocational training areas. However, the school did not contain a cafeteria. Compared to white schools at the time, Lincoln received less funding and students had decreased educational opportunities. Despite having a library, the school did not receive enough funding to purchase books. Lincoln’s first librarian, Mrs. Alberta K. McFarland Stevenson stocked the library shelves by collecting used books and monetary donations door-to-door from local residents.[4]
This was not the only inequality experienced by Lincoln students. Discrimination was rampant in Indiana high school sports in the 1930s and early 1940s, directly affecting the successful athletes at Lincoln. African American high school teams in Indiana were not allowed to compete in contact sports with white schools until 1943 when the Indiana High School Athletic Association (IHSAA) was ordered by the Indiana legislature to open membership to all schools. This order was only six years before state law declared segregation of Indiana schools illegal.
Because Lincoln High School students were excluded from competing with white teams in Indiana, athletes traveled to Gary and Indianapolis to play teams from African American schools (Roosevelt and Crispus Attucks). They also traveled out of state to Dayton, Louisville, Missouri, Nashville, and St. Louis for athletic competitions. George Flowers, who was a member of the school’s track team, recalled “That’s the one time segregation was kind of a fun thing, because it allowed our young men to go to bigger cities.”[5]
Despite the lack of school funding, the teachers were held in high esteem for providing quality education and turning students into respectful young people. Dawn Whitticker, whose mother was a teacher at Lincoln, recounts “The teachers were excellent. They were really strong disciplinarians,” she said. “Even if you were a student who wasn’t as up to speed, they made sure you learned. We were all forced to stay together, even during our entertainment. My teacher would probably see my mother in the grocery store and the beauty shop.” This strong sense of community and the bond between African American residents and teachers created an atmosphere where students wanted to do well and created a Lincoln legacy that continues to this day.[6]
In 1949, Indiana state law opened the doors to all schools for African Americans. However, in many areas of the state there was no mechanism to promote integration while there many policies enacted to continue de facto segregation. Very few Lincoln students integrated to the previously all-white schools.[7] In 1962, the final solely African American class graduated from Lincoln High School, and the school was then converted into a K-8 facility as part of the school corporation’s integration plan.[8] The original Lincoln School building still stands and as of 2020, serves K-8 students.[9] The Lincoln Clark Douglass Alumni Association keeps the legacy of Lincoln High School alive, and as part of their mission they resolve to “encourage high culture, intellectual and moral standards among its members” and “to inspire such traits of character among the African American community members…. and throughout the community at large.”[10]
]]>Lincoln High School in Evansville was built as an exclusively African American high school in Evansville, Indiana.[1][2] When classes were first held in 1928, the Lincoln hosted grades K-12, with an enrollment of 300. Students were bussed in from surrounding Vanderburg, Posey, and Warrick counties to attend Lincoln, including the communities of Mt. Vernon, Rockport, Newburgh, and Grandview.[3]
The school included 22 classrooms, a gym, auditorium, sewing room, and other vocational training areas. However, the school did not contain a cafeteria. Compared to white schools at the time, Lincoln received less funding and students had decreased educational opportunities. Despite having a library, the school did not receive enough funding to purchase books. Lincoln’s first librarian, Mrs. Alberta K. McFarland Stevenson stocked the library shelves by collecting used books and monetary donations door-to-door from local residents.[4]
This was not the only inequality experienced by Lincoln students. Discrimination was rampant in Indiana high school sports in the 1930s and early 1940s, directly affecting the successful athletes at Lincoln. African American high school teams in Indiana were not allowed to compete in contact sports with white schools until 1943 when the Indiana High School Athletic Association (IHSAA) was ordered by the Indiana legislature to open membership to all schools. This order was only six years before state law declared segregation of Indiana schools illegal.
Because Lincoln High School students were excluded from competing with white teams in Indiana, athletes traveled to Gary and Indianapolis to play teams from African American schools (Roosevelt and Crispus Attucks). They also traveled out of state to Dayton, Louisville, Missouri, Nashville, and St. Louis for athletic competitions. George Flowers, who was a member of the school’s track team, recalled “That’s the one time segregation was kind of a fun thing, because it allowed our young men to go to bigger cities.”[5]
Despite the lack of school funding, the teachers were held in high esteem for providing quality education and turning students into respectful young people. Dawn Whitticker, whose mother was a teacher at Lincoln, recounts “The teachers were excellent. They were really strong disciplinarians,” she said. “Even if you were a student who wasn’t as up to speed, they made sure you learned. We were all forced to stay together, even during our entertainment. My teacher would probably see my mother in the grocery store and the beauty shop.” This strong sense of community and the bond between African American residents and teachers created an atmosphere where students wanted to do well and created a Lincoln legacy that continues to this day.[6]
In 1949, Indiana state law opened the doors to all schools for African Americans. However, in many areas of the state there was no mechanism to promote integration while there many policies enacted to continue de facto segregation. Very few Lincoln students integrated to the previously all-white schools.[7] In 1962, the final solely African American class graduated from Lincoln High School, and the school was then converted into a K-8 facility as part of the school corporation’s integration plan.[8] The original Lincoln School building still stands and as of 2020, serves K-8 students.[9] The Lincoln Clark Douglass Alumni Association keeps the legacy of Lincoln High School alive, and as part of their mission they resolve to “encourage high culture, intellectual and moral standards among its members” and “to inspire such traits of character among the African American community members…. and throughout the community at large.”[10]
Muncie attorney Marshall Hanley told Kennedy about King’s assassination before his plane left for Indianapolis for the last campaign stop of the day. A 1969 Indianapolis Star article recorded Hanley’s recollection: “I heard the news flash over the radio and told the senator as he came to the airplane ramp…. He seemed stunned and dropped his head. ‘Is he dead?’ he asked. I said I didn't know and then he went on up the ramp to the plane."[3]
Kennedy was scheduled to speak at a rally at 17th and Broadway Streets in Indianapolis, in the heart of the African American community. After arriving in Indianapolis and confirming King’s death, Kennedy proceeded to the rally spot at 9:00 pm, climbed on the back of a flatbed truck, and delivered his remarks despite fears of race riots erupting.[4] About 2,500 African Americans, many members of groups such as the Black Panthers and the Black Radical Action Project, had gathered to hear Kennedy speak. Most in the crowd had not heard of King’s death until Kennedy broke the news.[5] Instead of his planned campaign speech, Kennedy delivered personal and compassionate thoughts, uniting the crowd. Kennedy’s speech is often believed to be the reason riots did not break out in Indianapolis. He was able to calm the public, particularly the African American community, who were in shock and deeply mourning Dr. King’s death. In an act of empathy, Kennedy spoke about his own brother’s death in 1963, the first time he had done so in public. Kennedy stated: “So I ask you tonight to return home, to say a prayer for the family of Martin Luther King -- yeah, it's true -- but more importantly to say a prayer for our own country, which all of us love -- a prayer for understanding and that compassion of which I spoke.” The crowd erupted in applause after his speech.[6]
The speech did not grab immediate media attention. Publisher Eugene C. Pulliam of the Indianapolis Star and Indianapolis News was not a fan of Kennedy and gave the speech as little coverage as possible. In addition, the coverage of Dr. King’s death, funeral, and ensuing nationwide riots overshadowed coverage of Kennedy’s remarks. The 637-word speech is now often listed as one of the greatest speeches in American history.[7] Robert F. Kennedy himself was assassinated on June 5, 1968 while on a California primary stop in Los Angeles, just two months after announcing Dr. King’s death to the African American community in Indianapolis.
The unifying message delivered by Kennedy on April 4, 1968, is still remembered years later by those who heard his remarks in person. Jim Trulock, an Indianapolis autoworker at the time, reminisced 50 years later. “He spoke from the heart. At the time a good half of the crowd hadn’t heard of Dr. King’s assassination, so when he made that announcement you could hear this gasps amongst the crowd. I’ve heard a lot of speeches in my life, I’m 80 years old, but it was the best speech I’ve heard to this date.”[8] An Indiana Historical Bureau marker at the corner of 17th and Broadway Streets in Indianapolis commemorates the site of Kennedy’s speech.[9] The Dr. Martin Luther King Park & Landmark for Peace Memorial is also on the site and honors both King and Kennedy.[10]
]]>On April 4, 1968, Civil Rights leader Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee. News of his passing spread throughout the country, sparking multi-day riots in over 100 cities including Washington DC, Kansas City, Los Angeles, and Detroit. The city of Indianapolis did not experience riots related to King’s assassination, in part because of an impromptu calming and unifying speech by Robert F. Kennedy.[1] The brother of the late President John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy was vying for the Democratic Party presidential nomination in 1968. Earlier that day, Kennedy had delivered speeches at Notre Dame University in South Bend, and Ball State University in Muncie while campaigning in Indiana. He spoke of typical campaign topics including poverty, racism, and the Vietnam War.[2]
Muncie attorney Marshall Hanley told Kennedy about King’s assassination before his plane left for Indianapolis for the last campaign stop of the day. A 1969 Indianapolis Star article recorded Hanley’s recollection: “I heard the news flash over the radio and told the senator as he came to the airplane ramp…. He seemed stunned and dropped his head. ‘Is he dead?’ he asked. I said I didn't know and then he went on up the ramp to the plane."[3]
Kennedy was scheduled to speak at a rally at 17th and Broadway Streets in Indianapolis, in the heart of the African American community. After arriving in Indianapolis and confirming King’s death, Kennedy proceeded to the rally spot at 9:00 pm, climbed on the back of a flatbed truck, and delivered his remarks despite fears of race riots erupting.[4] About 2,500 African Americans, many members of groups such as the Black Panthers and the Black Radical Action Project, had gathered to hear Kennedy speak. Most in the crowd had not heard of King’s death until Kennedy broke the news.[5] Instead of his planned campaign speech, Kennedy delivered personal and compassionate thoughts, uniting the crowd. Kennedy’s speech is often believed to be the reason riots did not break out in Indianapolis. He was able to calm the public, particularly the African American community, who were in shock and deeply mourning Dr. King’s death. In an act of empathy, Kennedy spoke about his own brother’s death in 1963, the first time he had done so in public. Kennedy stated: “So I ask you tonight to return home, to say a prayer for the family of Martin Luther King -- yeah, it's true -- but more importantly to say a prayer for our own country, which all of us love -- a prayer for understanding and that compassion of which I spoke.” The crowd erupted in applause after his speech.[6]
The speech did not grab immediate media attention. Publisher Eugene C. Pulliam of the Indianapolis Star and Indianapolis News was not a fan of Kennedy and gave the speech as little coverage as possible. In addition, the coverage of Dr. King’s death, funeral, and ensuing nationwide riots overshadowed coverage of Kennedy’s remarks. The 637-word speech is now often listed as one of the greatest speeches in American history.[7] Robert F. Kennedy himself was assassinated on June 5, 1968 while on a California primary stop in Los Angeles, just two months after announcing Dr. King’s death to the African American community in Indianapolis.
The unifying message delivered by Kennedy on April 4, 1968, is still remembered years later by those who heard his remarks in person. Jim Trulock, an Indianapolis autoworker at the time, reminisced 50 years later. “He spoke from the heart. At the time a good half of the crowd hadn’t heard of Dr. King’s assassination, so when he made that announcement you could hear this gasps amongst the crowd. I’ve heard a lot of speeches in my life, I’m 80 years old, but it was the best speech I’ve heard to this date.”[8] An Indiana Historical Bureau marker at the corner of 17th and Broadway Streets in Indianapolis commemorates the site of Kennedy’s speech.[9] The Dr. Martin Luther King Park & Landmark for Peace Memorial is also on the site and honors both King and Kennedy.[10]
As a teenager, Jones was convinced that his father was a member of the Ku Klux Klan, as Lynn had a large KKK membership. Believing in equal rights and in reaction to his father’s actions, Jones became a strong advocate for racial equality and civil rights. Jones attended Indiana University and Butler University, and in 1952, became a student preacher for the Somerset Methodist Church in Indianapolis.[4] In 1956, he established the Peoples Temple of the Disciples in Christ in Indianapolis, and became ordained in 1964. Due to Jones’ passion for civil rights and his support for the underdog and downtrodden since his childhood, the Peoples Temple welcomed congregants from various racial backgrounds, the majority being African American. Jones and his wife adopted children of different races and claimed to be the first white couple in Indianapolis to adopt an African American child. Jones referred to his children as his “rainbow family”, with the Joneses receiving death threats towards their African American son.[5]
The Peoples Temple directly participated in the Civil Rights Movement in Indiana, including helping to desegregate movie theatres, hospitals, restaurants, and police departments. The Temple also created a “free restaurant, and homes for the mentally ill.” In 1961, Mayor Charles Boswell appointed Jones as head of the Indianapolis Human Rights Commission.[6]
Jones moved his Peoples Temple to San Francisco in the 1970s. The Temple attracted members of lower and middle classes of all races to hear Jones’ message of equality and anti-discrimination. Jones continued to donate to local causes such as the NAACP, and developed connections with politicians to spread his message and gain followers. California State Assembly Speaker Willie Brown was said to compare Jones to figures including “Martin Luther King, Angela Davis, Albert Einstein, and Chairman Mao.”[7]
Jones portrayed himself as someone with extraordinary powers, such as telepathy, faith healing, and clairvoyance. In reality, he had other Temple members search through “garbage cans and medicine cabinets for private information” or pretend to be disabled to make Jones’ powers look real. Jones controlled his congregants with abuse, beatings, sleep deprivation, constant work, and humiliation[8] This abuse caused some of even Jones’ most trusted members to leave the Temple and contact the media.[9] In 1974, threatened by an imminent media investigation, he moved his entire congregation to Guyana. There, the Temple sought to create a society where they were free to do as they wished without prejudice and hatred, and control by the US government. By 1977, “Jonestown” had nearly a thousand residents.[10]
Jones continued to maintain control over Jonestown residents by physical punishment and humiliations. Communication from inside and outside Jonestown was heavily controlled and censored. Phone calls were scripted, with Jones telling his followers what to say to their relatives in the US. He convinced his followers that staying in Jonestown was for their own safety, by falsely declaring that nuclear war was impending and concentration camps were being formed in the US. Despite these “warnings”, some members did leave Jonestown. As a test of loyalty, Jones even made his followers practice “revolutionary suicide” by drinking water said to be poisoned. Meanwhile in the US, relatives of the Jonestown population contacted the authorities to start an investigation into the Peoples Temple. Former members informed the media of the abuses and mass suicide threats that occurred in Jonestown.[11]
California Representative Leo Ryan, relatives of Temple members, and American journalists arrived in Jonestown on November 1978 to investigate. Jones and the residents put on public festivities to welcome their guests, but in private, Jones complained to Ryan about the American government interfering with the Peoples Temple.[12] The next day, a reporter handed Jones a note that was given to him by a Temple member reading “Help us get out of Jonestown.” Despite his anger, Jones told Ryan and the media that anyone who wanted to leave Jonestown could do so. As several groups of people prepared to leave the settlement, Peoples Temple members opened fire, killing Ryan and three others, and injuring 11.[13] In Jonestown, Jones convinced his congregation to drink from vats of Flavor-Aid that were laced with cyanide as a “revolutionary act.” A total of 918 people died by mass suicide that day, a third of them children.
Jones himself was found dead with a gunshot wound to the head, leaving an incomprehensible and tragic legacy of using civil rights and religion as a cover to further his political ideology resulting in human rights abuses and mass murder.[14]
]]>James Warren Jones was born on May 13, 1931 in Crete, Indiana[1] and the family moved to Lynn, Indiana in 1934.[2] He was invited to church by his neighbors, and it was those sermons that sparked Jones’ interest in religion and leadership. He studied various leaders including Marx, Gandhi, Hitler, and Stalin, noting their strengths and weaknesses.[3]
As a teenager, Jones was convinced that his father was a member of the Ku Klux Klan, as Lynn had a large KKK membership. Believing in equal rights and in reaction to his father’s actions, Jones became a strong advocate for racial equality and civil rights. Jones attended Indiana University and Butler University, and in 1952, became a student preacher for the Somerset Methodist Church in Indianapolis.[4] In 1956, he established the Peoples Temple of the Disciples in Christ in Indianapolis, and became ordained in 1964. Due to Jones’ passion for civil rights and his support for the underdog and downtrodden since his childhood, the Peoples Temple welcomed congregants from various racial backgrounds, the majority being African American. Jones and his wife adopted children of different races and claimed to be the first white couple in Indianapolis to adopt an African American child. Jones referred to his children as his “rainbow family”, with the Joneses receiving death threats towards their African American son.[5]
The Peoples Temple directly participated in the Civil Rights Movement in Indiana, including helping to desegregate movie theatres, hospitals, restaurants, and police departments. The Temple also created a “free restaurant, and homes for the mentally ill.” In 1961, Mayor Charles Boswell appointed Jones as head of the Indianapolis Human Rights Commission.[6]
Jones moved his Peoples Temple to San Francisco in the 1970s. The Temple attracted members of lower and middle classes of all races to hear Jones’ message of equality and anti-discrimination. Jones continued to donate to local causes such as the NAACP, and developed connections with politicians to spread his message and gain followers. California State Assembly Speaker Willie Brown was said to compare Jones to figures including “Martin Luther King, Angela Davis, Albert Einstein, and Chairman Mao.”[7]
Jones portrayed himself as someone with extraordinary powers, such as telepathy, faith healing, and clairvoyance. In reality, he had other Temple members search through “garbage cans and medicine cabinets for private information” or pretend to be disabled to make Jones’ powers look real. Jones controlled his congregants with abuse, beatings, sleep deprivation, constant work, and humiliation[8] This abuse caused some of even Jones’ most trusted members to leave the Temple and contact the media.[9] In 1974, threatened by an imminent media investigation, he moved his entire congregation to Guyana. There, the Temple sought to create a society where they were free to do as they wished without prejudice and hatred, and control by the US government. By 1977, “Jonestown” had nearly a thousand residents.[10]
Jones continued to maintain control over Jonestown residents by physical punishment and humiliations. Communication from inside and outside Jonestown was heavily controlled and censored. Phone calls were scripted, with Jones telling his followers what to say to their relatives in the US. He convinced his followers that staying in Jonestown was for their own safety, by falsely declaring that nuclear war was impending and concentration camps were being formed in the US. Despite these “warnings”, some members did leave Jonestown. As a test of loyalty, Jones even made his followers practice “revolutionary suicide” by drinking water said to be poisoned. Meanwhile in the US, relatives of the Jonestown population contacted the authorities to start an investigation into the Peoples Temple. Former members informed the media of the abuses and mass suicide threats that occurred in Jonestown.[11]
California Representative Leo Ryan, relatives of Temple members, and American journalists arrived in Jonestown on November 1978 to investigate. Jones and the residents put on public festivities to welcome their guests, but in private, Jones complained to Ryan about the American government interfering with the Peoples Temple.[12] The next day, a reporter handed Jones a note that was given to him by a Temple member reading “Help us get out of Jonestown.” Despite his anger, Jones told Ryan and the media that anyone who wanted to leave Jonestown could do so. As several groups of people prepared to leave the settlement, Peoples Temple members opened fire, killing Ryan and three others, and injuring 11.[13] In Jonestown, Jones convinced his congregation to drink from vats of Flavor-Aid that were laced with cyanide as a “revolutionary act.” A total of 918 people died by mass suicide that day, a third of them children.
Jones himself was found dead with a gunshot wound to the head, leaving an incomprehensible and tragic legacy of using civil rights and religion as a cover to further his political ideology resulting in human rights abuses and mass murder.[14]
One of the most popular attractions in North Gleason Park was the 9-hole golf course. Bonded by the love of the sport, golfers at North Gleason Park developed the “Par-Makers” in 1949, a social club that enjoyed hosting tournaments and encouraging competition. The Par-Makers developed a scholarship fund, created a youth golf program, and contributed their time to support local causes within the African American community. The club worked to eliminate exclusion at South Gleason Park’s 18-hole golf course, even using professional boxer Joe Louis to persuade the Gary park board to allow African Americans to play at the South Gleason course.[3] Ann Gregory from Gary, who became the first African American golfer to play in a USGA Championship, also helped break the racial barrier at Gleason Park. After being told she could not play at South Gleason Park by a staff and a groundskeeper, Gregory remarked that “My tax dollars are taking care of the big course and there's no way you can bar me from it. Just send the police out to get me" and she proceeded to play all 18 holes on the south side.[4] Through persistent efforts by African American golfers, the South Gleason Park golf course became integrated by the 1960s.[5]
The North Gleason Park pavilion was another popular space for Gary’s African American community and was used primarily as a boxing gym, but also for meetings and gatherings. Boxing greats such as Angel Manfredy (a popular contender in the 1990s) and “Merciless” Mary McGee (Women's Super Lightweight Champion of the World in December of 2019)[6] were trained in the pavilion under the instruction of retired police officer, John Taylor. Taylor was known for bringing young people in off the streets and turning them into boxing champions.[7] Today, efforts are being made to add the North Gleason Park pavilion to the National Register of Historic Places. Currently, the pavilion is in severe disrepair after years of neglect.[8] However, multiple groups and individuals from Gary have stepped up to offer their labor in hopes of repairing the pavilion for use once again.[9][10]
]]>North Gleason Park in Gary was first developed in 1920. Originally named Riverside Park, it was renamed after the U.S. Steel Superintendent and park board president William P. Gleason in 1933. The park board segregated the park into north and south parcels using the Little Calumet River as a divider. The north section of the park was designated for African American patrons, the south for Gary’s white residents.[1] The funding for the two sides of the park was never equal, with the south side of the park enjoying more and better quality amenities than the north side, including an 18-hole golf course in South Gleason as opposed to the 9-hole course in North Gleason. Despite the inequality, the African American community in Gary embraced North Gleason Park as their own place to unwind and enjoy.[2]
One of the most popular attractions in North Gleason Park was the 9-hole golf course. Bonded by the love of the sport, golfers at North Gleason Park developed the “Par-Makers” in 1949, a social club that enjoyed hosting tournaments and encouraging competition. The Par-Makers developed a scholarship fund, created a youth golf program, and contributed their time to support local causes within the African American community. The club worked to eliminate exclusion at South Gleason Park’s 18-hole golf course, even using professional boxer Joe Louis to persuade the Gary park board to allow African Americans to play at the South Gleason course.[3] Ann Gregory from Gary, who became the first African American golfer to play in a USGA Championship, also helped break the racial barrier at Gleason Park. After being told she could not play at South Gleason Park by a staff and a groundskeeper, Gregory remarked that “My tax dollars are taking care of the big course and there's no way you can bar me from it. Just send the police out to get me" and she proceeded to play all 18 holes on the south side.[4] Through persistent efforts by African American golfers, the South Gleason Park golf course became integrated by the 1960s.[5]
The North Gleason Park pavilion was another popular space for Gary’s African American community and was used primarily as a boxing gym, but also for meetings and gatherings. Boxing greats such as Angel Manfredy (a popular contender in the 1990s) and “Merciless” Mary McGee (Women's Super Lightweight Champion of the World in December of 2019)[6] were trained in the pavilion under the instruction of retired police officer, John Taylor. Taylor was known for bringing young people in off the streets and turning them into boxing champions.[7] Today, efforts are being made to add the North Gleason Park pavilion to the National Register of Historic Places. Currently, the pavilion is in severe disrepair after years of neglect.[8] However, multiple groups and individuals from Gary have stepped up to offer their labor in hopes of repairing the pavilion for use once again.[9][10]
On February 1, 1968, King delivered a speech at Manchester University in North Manchester, Indiana, a private university associated with the Church of the Brethren. King had led campaigns for racial justice in the South and delivered similar speeches at colleges around the country, including in nearby Fort Wayne in 1963.[1] His Manchester speech was on the future of integration in the United States, highlighting a hope that race relations and equality in this country would get better in the years to come. “We have come a long, long way, but we must honestly face the fact that all over America we still have a long, long way to go before the problem of racial injustice is solved.”[2]
Manchester’s religious founder, the Church of the Brethren, is “committed to peace” and is one of the historic peace churches along with the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) and Mennonites.[3] Manchester University’s Peace Studies Institute and Program for Conflict Resolution was the first undergraduate Peace Studies program in the world. King’s message of non-violence was expected to resonate with Manchester faculty and students.[4] However, Dr. King’s speech was not met with all peaceful reactions. In preparation for an influx of demonstrators during King’s visit, tight security was imposed amid high tensions on campus and in the community of Manchester.[5] The President of the university, A. Blair Helman, received hate mail prior to and following Dr. King’s appearance.[6] Much of the negative reactions stemmed from King’s stance on the Vietnam War. In his speech, Dr. King mentioned his opposition to the war, stating that, “I am afraid that our national administration is more concerned about winning an ill-considered war in Vietnam than about winning the war against poverty right here at home. I raise my voice against that war because I have seen what it has done to our nation...It has diverted attention from civil rights.”[7]
Two months later, on April 4, 1968, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr was shot and killed in Memphis, Tennessee. His fight for civil rights and his powerful voice for social justice were silenced, but his legacy and message speak loud and clear today. Dr. King’s remarks at Manchester University was his last speech at a college campus, and the event is commemorated, with a bust in the likeness of King near the spot that he gave his address in 1968.[8]
]]>The 1960s were a time of great change and turmoil. The Civil Rights movement was at its height in the late 1960s, following the March on Washington in 1963, the passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and the passing of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. The leader of the Civil Rights movement was Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. who traveled the country giving speeches, often on college campuses, calling for social justice and equal rights.
On February 1, 1968, King delivered a speech at Manchester University in North Manchester, Indiana, a private university associated with the Church of the Brethren. King had led campaigns for racial justice in the South and delivered similar speeches at colleges around the country, including in nearby Fort Wayne in 1963.[1] His Manchester speech was on the future of integration in the United States, highlighting a hope that race relations and equality in this country would get better in the years to come. “We have come a long, long way, but we must honestly face the fact that all over America we still have a long, long way to go before the problem of racial injustice is solved.”[2]
Manchester’s religious founder, the Church of the Brethren, is “committed to peace” and is one of the historic peace churches along with the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) and Mennonites.[3] Manchester University’s Peace Studies Institute and Program for Conflict Resolution was the first undergraduate Peace Studies program in the world. King’s message of non-violence was expected to resonate with Manchester faculty and students.[4] However, Dr. King’s speech was not met with all peaceful reactions. In preparation for an influx of demonstrators during King’s visit, tight security was imposed amid high tensions on campus and in the community of Manchester.[5] The President of the university, A. Blair Helman, received hate mail prior to and following Dr. King’s appearance.[6] Much of the negative reactions stemmed from King’s stance on the Vietnam War. In his speech, Dr. King mentioned his opposition to the war, stating that, “I am afraid that our national administration is more concerned about winning an ill-considered war in Vietnam than about winning the war against poverty right here at home. I raise my voice against that war because I have seen what it has done to our nation...It has diverted attention from civil rights.”[7]
Two months later, on April 4, 1968, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr was shot and killed in Memphis, Tennessee. His fight for civil rights and his powerful voice for social justice were silenced, but his legacy and message speak loud and clear today. Dr. King’s remarks at Manchester University was his last speech at a college campus, and the event is commemorated, with a bust in the likeness of King near the spot that he gave his address in 1968.[8]
One member of Company 517-C, Francis Crowdus, recounted his experience in the CCC, saying “there was a sense of high expectation. We worked hard and were expected to do it right. We used our muscles…we built barracks, dams, fought forest fires, reclaimed streams, and planted forests. Even though the CCC was one of President Roosevelt’s job programs, I never felt I was on welfare.”[5] In addition to the work described by Crowdus, the 517-C worked in natural stone quarries, as well as helped in rescue efforts following the flood of 1937.[6]
The time spent in segregated camps afforded the men opportunities they would not have otherwise had. At Corydon, Company 517-C was isolated from the surrounding white community, cementing a sense of belonging for those in 517-C. Another former member of Company 517-C claimed “I’ve never seen such camaraderie anywhere, not even in a fraternity or a church. It’s like blood brothers.” With this strong sense of teamwork, Company 517-C coined the phrase “We Can Take It!” as their motto, highlighting their hard work and friendship.[7]
While New Deal historians argue that race relations did not see improvement on a national level as a result of the CCC, it can be argued that race relations did improve on a local level by the brotherhood developed among African American young men following the Great Depression. Many white farmers and landowners of southern Indiana openly accepted and appreciated the help of the African American CCC groups.[8][9]
However, members of the 517-C were the subject of great prejudice in other areas of Indiana. Company 517-C moved to Portland in Jay County in the fall of 1939 to repair a drainage system. Their arrival caused much anxiety throughout the community. An editorial in The Sun & Commercial asked local citizens not to be alarmed assuring that “during the few months they will be kept under strict discipline by their white officers.”[10] With no diversity in Portland, the men of 517-C traveled to Muncie or Fort Wayne for their weekend social activities. With Camp Portland close to town, the local community cultivated a growing distrust of the CCC workers.
One of the 517-C crew, Marshall Carter, walked through an alley on his way out of town one evening in December 1939. A local resident yelled at him to stop, then open fired without warning, severely wounding Carter, and he was rushed to the local hospital. The attack was initially ignored in the national CCC paper Happy Days, greatly upsetting many of the African American CCC members.[11] However, the December 1939 issue of Ditch Dots and Dashes, published by 517-C members, blared the headline “Local Citizen Shoots C.C.C. Boy, Marshall Carter is Victim”. Subsequent issues included submissions from 517-C crew lamenting racial injustice in the form of testimonials and poetry, including Carter with a poem titled So You’re the Judge.[12] It was reported in the February 1940 issue that Carter had recovered from his wounds.[13]
In 1942, the CCC disbanded nationally as young men were needed to fight in WWII. Many members of the 517-C met for annual reunions at their camps in Corydon and Portland until the last CCC reunion in 1994.[14]
]]>The Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) was one of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s most popular New Deal relief agencies, employing approximately three million men between the ages of 17 and 23, from 1933 to 1942, in 57 camps across the United States.[1] The CCC was heavily responsible for the creation of many structures and infrastructure within Indiana state parks and forests, as well as many other public works across the state.[2] Eight Indiana CCC companies were comprised solely of African Americans. Company 517-C, formed in 1934 with 250 men and based outside of Corydon, became the largest and most enduring African American CCC company.[3] The “-C” in the name designated it as a “colored” group.[4]
One member of Company 517-C, Francis Crowdus, recounted his experience in the CCC, saying “there was a sense of high expectation. We worked hard and were expected to do it right. We used our muscles…we built barracks, dams, fought forest fires, reclaimed streams, and planted forests. Even though the CCC was one of President Roosevelt’s job programs, I never felt I was on welfare.”[5] In addition to the work described by Crowdus, the 517-C worked in natural stone quarries, as well as helped in rescue efforts following the flood of 1937.[6]
The time spent in segregated camps afforded the men opportunities they would not have otherwise had. At Corydon, Company 517-C was isolated from the surrounding white community, cementing a sense of belonging for those in 517-C. Another former member of Company 517-C claimed “I’ve never seen such camaraderie anywhere, not even in a fraternity or a church. It’s like blood brothers.” With this strong sense of teamwork, Company 517-C coined the phrase “We Can Take It!” as their motto, highlighting their hard work and friendship.[7]
While New Deal historians argue that race relations did not see improvement on a national level as a result of the CCC, it can be argued that race relations did improve on a local level by the brotherhood developed among African American young men following the Great Depression. Many white farmers and landowners of southern Indiana openly accepted and appreciated the help of the African American CCC groups.[8][9]
However, members of the 517-C were the subject of great prejudice in other areas of Indiana. Company 517-C moved to Portland in Jay County in the fall of 1939 to repair a drainage system. Their arrival caused much anxiety throughout the community. An editorial in The Sun & Commercial asked local citizens not to be alarmed assuring that “during the few months they will be kept under strict discipline by their white officers.”[10] With no diversity in Portland, the men of 517-C traveled to Muncie or Fort Wayne for their weekend social activities. With Camp Portland close to town, the local community cultivated a growing distrust of the CCC workers.
One of the 517-C crew, Marshall Carter, walked through an alley on his way out of town one evening in December 1939. A local resident yelled at him to stop, then open fired without warning, severely wounding Carter, and he was rushed to the local hospital. The attack was initially ignored in the national CCC paper Happy Days, greatly upsetting many of the African American CCC members.[11] However, the December 1939 issue of Ditch Dots and Dashes, published by 517-C members, blared the headline “Local Citizen Shoots C.C.C. Boy, Marshall Carter is Victim”. Subsequent issues included submissions from 517-C crew lamenting racial injustice in the form of testimonials and poetry, including Carter with a poem titled So You’re the Judge.[12] It was reported in the February 1940 issue that Carter had recovered from his wounds.[13]
In 1942, the CCC disbanded nationally as young men were needed to fight in WWII. Many members of the 517-C met for annual reunions at their camps in Corydon and Portland until the last CCC reunion in 1994.[14]
Nightclubs and theaters such as the Washington, Sunset Terrace Ballroom, Columbia Theater, and the Walker Theatre hosted renowned African American musicians and entertainers, such as Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald and Cab Calloway.[3] Local musicians cut their teeth jamming onstage with jazz legends, and some became legends of their own right, like Wes Montgomery, Slide Hampton, David Baker, and many others.[4] Live performances were announced in the African American Indianapolis Recorder, with colorful headlines such as this one: “Ella Fitzgerald, Sunset Thurs. Nite: Jamtown’s Jumpiest Jivers With That Savage Rhythm, Fiery Beats, Torrid Tempos Will Put You in the Groove and You’re [sic] Feet Just Gotta Move!”[5]
Among the musicians who performed on The Avenue were the Montgomery Brothers. Born in Indianapolis, the Montgomery Brothers (Monk, Buddy, and Wes) were each a talented musician in his own right. Monk was the first to record on an electric bass and played in Lionel Hampton’s band. Buddy, a pianist, performed with trombonist Slide Hampton and later with Miles Davis. Wes, who is considered to be one of the most influential jazz guitarists, started out experimenting with different techniques after initially being taught by older brother Monk, but received no formal training.[6]
In many ways, jazz helped set the stage for the Civil Rights movement, as many musicians spoke out against racial inequality. Duke Ellington, for example, had in his contracts that he would not play for segregated audiences. While touring the South in the 1930s, he rented three train cars for his band to avoid Jim Crow laws that limited African American options for overnight lodging. Ellington’s fight for civil rights and African American pride was most evident in his music, which he referred to as “African American classical music.”[7]
Locally, the creation of segregated Crispus Attucks High School in 1927, a public school for Indianapolis’ African American students, coincided with the jazz explosion. Attucks’ highly regarded music department and the openness of Indiana Avenue combined to provide opportunities for young local African Americans musicians at a time when many Indianapolis music venues were not open to them. David Baker, a Crispus Attucks graduate and famed jazz composer, conductor, and musician reflected on the Indianapolis jazz scene and his experience as a young African American musician. "People tend to excel in the areas that are open to them. At that time, a black was expected to play religious music, R & B or jazz. I can remember auditioning for the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra and being told, in no uncertain terms, that even though my audition was the best, there was no chance that I'd become a member."[8]
In 1994, an Indiana Historical Bureau marker was placed on Indiana Avenue to commemorate the area’s role as an African American social, cultural, and economic center in the first half of the 20th century.[9]
]]>The jazz scene in Indianapolis was born during a time of segregation and Jim Crow laws, when African Americans could not attend musical concerts and shows, nor perform, in certain clubs and theatres. As a result, African Americans created their own venues and businesses in many cities in the pre-Civil Rights era. Indiana Avenue was the economic and cultural center of the African American community in Indianapolis. Jazz became big during the 1920s Harlem Renaissance in New York, and then spread to the rest of the country. Indiana Avenue, or simply “The Avenue”, became the capital of jazz in Indiana from the 1920s to the 1960s.[1] Night clubs and live music spots lined Indiana Avenue “from one end of it to the other, from Ohio Street to Lockefield.”[2]
Nightclubs and theaters such as the Washington, Sunset Terrace Ballroom, Columbia Theater, and the Walker Theatre hosted renowned African American musicians and entertainers, such as Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald and Cab Calloway.[3] Local musicians cut their teeth jamming onstage with jazz legends, and some became legends of their own right, like Wes Montgomery, Slide Hampton, David Baker, and many others.[4] Live performances were announced in the African American Indianapolis Recorder, with colorful headlines such as this one: “Ella Fitzgerald, Sunset Thurs. Nite: Jamtown’s Jumpiest Jivers With That Savage Rhythm, Fiery Beats, Torrid Tempos Will Put You in the Groove and You’re [sic] Feet Just Gotta Move!”[5]
Among the musicians who performed on The Avenue were the Montgomery Brothers. Born in Indianapolis, the Montgomery Brothers (Monk, Buddy, and Wes) were each a talented musician in his own right. Monk was the first to record on an electric bass and played in Lionel Hampton’s band. Buddy, a pianist, performed with trombonist Slide Hampton and later with Miles Davis. Wes, who is considered to be one of the most influential jazz guitarists, started out experimenting with different techniques after initially being taught by older brother Monk, but received no formal training.[6]
In many ways, jazz helped set the stage for the Civil Rights movement, as many musicians spoke out against racial inequality. Duke Ellington, for example, had in his contracts that he would not play for segregated audiences. While touring the South in the 1930s, he rented three train cars for his band to avoid Jim Crow laws that limited African American options for overnight lodging. Ellington’s fight for civil rights and African American pride was most evident in his music, which he referred to as “African American classical music.”[7]
Locally, the creation of segregated Crispus Attucks High School in 1927, a public school for Indianapolis’ African American students, coincided with the jazz explosion. Attucks’ highly regarded music department and the openness of Indiana Avenue combined to provide opportunities for young local African Americans musicians at a time when many Indianapolis music venues were not open to them. David Baker, a Crispus Attucks graduate and famed jazz composer, conductor, and musician reflected on the Indianapolis jazz scene and his experience as a young African American musician. "People tend to excel in the areas that are open to them. At that time, a black was expected to play religious music, R & B or jazz. I can remember auditioning for the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra and being told, in no uncertain terms, that even though my audition was the best, there was no chance that I'd become a member."[8]
In 1994, an Indiana Historical Bureau marker was placed on Indiana Avenue to commemorate the area’s role as an African American social, cultural, and economic center in the first half of the 20th century.[9]
The first African American family to vacation there was that of Viola Reynolds in 1927. Reynolds was secretary at the Madam C.J. Walker Company, an Indianapolis cosmetic manufacturing business, which was the largest and most successful African American-owned business in the nation at that time. The Reynolds family was invited to buy a cottage from the Boyd family, a white family who had purchased land from the Fox Lake Land Company. News quickly spread about the resort, initially bringing in African American clientele mostly from Indianapolis, but soon bringing in visitors from cities within a day driving distance such as Detroit, Chicago, Toledo, Marion, and Fort Wayne.[2]
The Fox Lake resort was listed in the Negro Motorist Green Book, a book published annually by Victor H. Green that listed establishments that served African American patrons. The Green Book was published from 1936 to 1966, during which that resort was listed as “ANGOLA: Fox Lake Resort - 1 1/2 miles S. W. of Angola” in the 1941 edition.[3]
In its initial decade, Fox Lake residents were required to use a community water pump until wells could be built on the properties. Finally, in 1936 electricity arrived and 1938 saw the arrival of the Fox Lake Property Owners Association which organized trash removal, road maintenance, and the like. By the 1940s, the resort’s clubhouse hosted many well known musicians. The resort also boasted recreational amenities including tennis courts, horseshoe pits, and basketball hoops.[4] Saddle horses were also available until the early 1950s. Other activities included trap shooting matches, weekly Family Night at the restaurant, and Sunday school held on the beach under the trees.[5]
For the African American youth that lived within driving distance, the resort served as a recreational destination for beach swimming, dancing, and socializing. During World War II, African American troops stationed at nearby Baer Field in Fort Wayne were invited to enjoy the resort on their free weekends. In addition, a variety of meetings of African American fraternal organizations, churches, and alumni groups were also held at the resort.[6]
In the present day, Fox Lake Resort is still a flourishing African American community. Traditions dating back to the 1930s remain upheld by second and third generation lake cottage owners.[7] A portion of Fox Lake Resort, with 27 contributing single dwelling cottages, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places (since 2001) as a historic district.[8]
]]>Fox Lake Resort was the first and only resort established in Indiana catering to African American families, and one of only a few in the Midwest. In September 1924, a group of white Fort Wayne businessmen purchased land in Angola, Indiana, under the name of the Fox Lake Land Company. Their intention was to market the land to the growing Indiana African American community, specifically to African Americans in search of an independent resort where they would not be excluded. Almost all summer resorts at the time in Indiana excluded or severely limited the participation of African Americans. Advertisements described the resort as “a place of their own where they could escape the heat of the cities and enjoy the pleasures of summertime activities.”[1]
The first African American family to vacation there was that of Viola Reynolds in 1927. Reynolds was secretary at the Madam C.J. Walker Company, an Indianapolis cosmetic manufacturing business, which was the largest and most successful African American-owned business in the nation at that time. The Reynolds family was invited to buy a cottage from the Boyd family, a white family who had purchased land from the Fox Lake Land Company. News quickly spread about the resort, initially bringing in African American clientele mostly from Indianapolis, but soon bringing in visitors from cities within a day driving distance such as Detroit, Chicago, Toledo, Marion, and Fort Wayne.[2]
The Fox Lake resort was listed in the Negro Motorist Green Book, a book published annually by Victor H. Green that listed establishments that served African American patrons. The Green Book was published from 1936 to 1966, during which that resort was listed as “ANGOLA: Fox Lake Resort - 1 1/2 miles S. W. of Angola” in the 1941 edition.[3]
In its initial decade, Fox Lake residents were required to use a community water pump until wells could be built on the properties. Finally, in 1936 electricity arrived and 1938 saw the arrival of the Fox Lake Property Owners Association which organized trash removal, road maintenance, and the like. By the 1940s, the resort’s clubhouse hosted many well known musicians. The resort also boasted recreational amenities including tennis courts, horseshoe pits, and basketball hoops.[4] Saddle horses were also available until the early 1950s. Other activities included trap shooting matches, weekly Family Night at the restaurant, and Sunday school held on the beach under the trees.[5]
For the African American youth that lived within driving distance, the resort served as a recreational destination for beach swimming, dancing, and socializing. During World War II, African American troops stationed at nearby Baer Field in Fort Wayne were invited to enjoy the resort on their free weekends. In addition, a variety of meetings of African American fraternal organizations, churches, and alumni groups were also held at the resort.[6]
In the present day, Fox Lake Resort is still a flourishing African American community. Traditions dating back to the 1930s remain upheld by second and third generation lake cottage owners.[7] A portion of Fox Lake Resort, with 27 contributing single dwelling cottages, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places (since 2001) as a historic district.[8]
As part of her master’s thesis in the late 1930s, Harris sent out 500 questionnaires to African American elementary school officials throughout the Unites States, asking whether they had access to materials that highlighted the importance of African American culture, African American people of high achievement, or showed African American families. Only a handful of schools had materials that presented African Americans accurately and fairly. In response, she began writing the first of many editions of “Stories for Little Tots”, published in 1940, which was a collection of biographies of important African American individuals, specifically targeted for school-aged children. During this time, she was befriended by Dr. George Washington Carver who helped her promote “Stories for Little Tots”, which featured a biography of Carver.[3]
Harris Merriweather also wrote “A History of Eminent Negroes”, highlighting accomplished African American individuals. Each of her books, including her three-part “The Family” elementary reader series and “Stories for Little Tots”, went on to become highly useful educational tools for African American schools across the nation. Her books were an unprecedented form of literature designed for African American young people. According to Terre Haute resident James Flinn, “All the reading material at that time was written by whites for whites about whites.”[4] In fact, most of the authors writing about African American culture at the time were white as well, creating a skewed perspective and fostering African American stereotypes amongst their readers.
The small number of African American children literature authors in the 1940s had a limited reach and a very small audience, contributing to the prejudice and the self-fulfilling prophecies of the African American children who read of themselves mostly in a negative stereotypical light and portrayed by white authors.[5] One of Merriweather’s former students, Carolyn Roberts, who became a elementary teacher herself, remarked on the importance of Merriweather’s readers. “The first time to open up a book and see an African-American, and see what they had done, was so important.”[6] It was writers such as Harris Merriweather that greatly contributed to the shift in African American children’s literature and education, from harmful prejudiced views to those that inspired hope and motivation amongst young African American readers.
Evangeline suffered a fatal cerebral hemorrhage at the age of 57, while still in the prime of her writing, educational, and singing career. Her contributions to African American children’s literature and culture are memorialized by an Indiana Historical Bureau marker on the campus of Indiana State University (formerly Indiana State Normal School).[7]
]]>Evangeline E. Harris was born in 1893 and raised in Terre Haute, Indiana. She attended Oberlin College in Ohio, Columbia University, and was an accomplished opera singer at the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, before earning her master’s degree in education from Indiana State Normal School, now Indiana State University, in Terre Haute. Harris was a school teacher and music supervisor at various elementary schools in the Terre Haute area.[1] In 1936, she married Charles Merriweather and they remained in Terre Haute. Harris Merriweather continued to teach elementary school and perform as an opera singer both locally and across the nation.[2]
As part of her master’s thesis in the late 1930s, Harris sent out 500 questionnaires to African American elementary school officials throughout the Unites States, asking whether they had access to materials that highlighted the importance of African American culture, African American people of high achievement, or showed African American families. Only a handful of schools had materials that presented African Americans accurately and fairly. In response, she began writing the first of many editions of “Stories for Little Tots”, published in 1940, which was a collection of biographies of important African American individuals, specifically targeted for school-aged children. During this time, she was befriended by Dr. George Washington Carver who helped her promote “Stories for Little Tots”, which featured a biography of Carver.[3]
Harris Merriweather also wrote “A History of Eminent Negroes”, highlighting accomplished African American individuals. Each of her books, including her three-part “The Family” elementary reader series and “Stories for Little Tots”, went on to become highly useful educational tools for African American schools across the nation. Her books were an unprecedented form of literature designed for African American young people. According to Terre Haute resident James Flinn, “All the reading material at that time was written by whites for whites about whites.”[4] In fact, most of the authors writing about African American culture at the time were white as well, creating a skewed perspective and fostering African American stereotypes amongst their readers.
The small number of African American children literature authors in the 1940s had a limited reach and a very small audience, contributing to the prejudice and the self-fulfilling prophecies of the African American children who read of themselves mostly in a negative stereotypical light and portrayed by white authors.[5] One of Merriweather’s former students, Carolyn Roberts, who became a elementary teacher herself, remarked on the importance of Merriweather’s readers. “The first time to open up a book and see an African-American, and see what they had done, was so important.”[6] It was writers such as Harris Merriweather that greatly contributed to the shift in African American children’s literature and education, from harmful prejudiced views to those that inspired hope and motivation amongst young African American readers.
Evangeline suffered a fatal cerebral hemorrhage at the age of 57, while still in the prime of her writing, educational, and singing career. Her contributions to African American children’s literature and culture are memorialized by an Indiana Historical Bureau marker on the campus of Indiana State University (formerly Indiana State Normal School).[7]
The 1920s marked a great resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan in Indiana, which pressured for segregated education. There was much pushback from African Americans regarding Crispus Attucks being segregated. The Better Indianapolis League, as well as African American churches such as the Bethel AME Church in Indianapolis, strongly opposed segregating the school.[2] Despite this, the school board voted unanimously on segregation. African American students who had previously attended integrated Indianapolis high schools, such as Arsenal Technical, Washington, and Shortridge, moved to Crispus Attucks upon the school’s opening, and were no longer allowed to attend any other public high school in the city. The Indianapolis Recorder reported on this incident, stating: “About two dozen of boys and girls who appeared at Shortridge, Manual and Technical High Schools...were refused admission...The Negro citizens are now faced with the circumstance, voiced by opponents of a Negro High School in the past. The great establishments as Technical, Manual, and Shortridge, offer subjects or works, and facilities that Negro boys and girls will never have at the Attucks High School, some parents declare.”[3]
Many Crispus Attucks’ teachers held master’s degrees or PhDs, which was unusual for a high school at the time. Richard Pierce in Polite Protest states, “By 1934, seven years after opening its doors, the sixty-two-member faculty held nineteen master’s degrees and two Ph.D.s. The percentage of advanced degrees held by Attucks’s faculty far exceeded that of any other high school in the city.”[4] With the amount of highly educated faculty, Attucks provided quality education despite the lack of quality resources compared to the city’s white high schools. The school also found success in sports. In the 1950s, the Attucks Tigers won two consecutive state basketball championships. The 1955 championship made the Tigers the first segregated black high school team in US history to win a state title.[5] Notable athletes who played on the team included future NBA Hall of Famer Oscar Robertson.[6]
Statewide desegregation was enacted into law by the Indiana General Assembly in 1949, five years before the Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court decision. However, Crispus Attucks continued to be a segregated African American high school. In 1965, the president of the NAACP requested an investigation into why Indianapolis Public Schools (IPS) were still segregated. In 1968, the Department of Justice “directed IPS to begin taking voluntary steps toward actual integration.” IPS ignored this directive, which was met with protests from the African American community, and from whites who refused to let their children attend Attucks High School. The school would remain segregated until September 7, 1971 “under court-ordered desegregation”.[7]
Recognized for both its architecture and its role in African American education and civil rights, Crispus Attucks High School was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1989. In 1992, the Indiana Historical Bureau erected a historical marker in front of the school, recounting its history and its importance to the Indianapolis African American community.
]]>Crispus Attucks High School, located in Indianapolis, Indiana, opened in 1927. Originally, it was to be named after President Thomas Jefferson. However, the idea of a school built explicitly for African American students named for a white slave owner invoked multiple petitions from the African American community. The name changed to Crispus Attucks to honor the runaway slave who is said to have been the first person to die in the American Revolution, during the Boston Massacre.[1]
The 1920s marked a great resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan in Indiana, which pressured for segregated education. There was much pushback from African Americans regarding Crispus Attucks being segregated. The Better Indianapolis League, as well as African American churches such as the Bethel AME Church in Indianapolis, strongly opposed segregating the school.[2] Despite this, the school board voted unanimously on segregation. African American students who had previously attended integrated Indianapolis high schools, such as Arsenal Technical, Washington, and Shortridge, moved to Crispus Attucks upon the school’s opening, and were no longer allowed to attend any other public high school in the city. The Indianapolis Recorder reported on this incident, stating: “About two dozen of boys and girls who appeared at Shortridge, Manual and Technical High Schools...were refused admission...The Negro citizens are now faced with the circumstance, voiced by opponents of a Negro High School in the past. The great establishments as Technical, Manual, and Shortridge, offer subjects or works, and facilities that Negro boys and girls will never have at the Attucks High School, some parents declare.”[3]
Many Crispus Attucks’ teachers held master’s degrees or PhDs, which was unusual for a high school at the time. Richard Pierce in Polite Protest states, “By 1934, seven years after opening its doors, the sixty-two-member faculty held nineteen master’s degrees and two Ph.D.s. The percentage of advanced degrees held by Attucks’s faculty far exceeded that of any other high school in the city.”[4] With the amount of highly educated faculty, Attucks provided quality education despite the lack of quality resources compared to the city’s white high schools. The school also found success in sports. In the 1950s, the Attucks Tigers won two consecutive state basketball championships. The 1955 championship made the Tigers the first segregated black high school team in US history to win a state title.[5] Notable athletes who played on the team included future NBA Hall of Famer Oscar Robertson.[6]
Statewide desegregation was enacted into law by the Indiana General Assembly in 1949, five years before the Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court decision. However, Crispus Attucks continued to be a segregated African American high school. In 1965, the president of the NAACP requested an investigation into why Indianapolis Public Schools (IPS) were still segregated. In 1968, the Department of Justice “directed IPS to begin taking voluntary steps toward actual integration.” IPS ignored this directive, which was met with protests from the African American community, and from whites who refused to let their children attend Attucks High School. The school would remain segregated until September 7, 1971 “under court-ordered desegregation”.[7]
Recognized for both its architecture and its role in African American education and civil rights, Crispus Attucks High School was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1989. In 1992, the Indiana Historical Bureau erected a historical marker in front of the school, recounting its history and its importance to the Indianapolis African American community.
Madam C.J. Walker, originally named Sarah Breedlove, was born in 1867 in Louisiana to former slaves. At the age of seven, she became an orphan and lived with her older sister Louvenia.[1] Breedlove married Moses McWilliams at the age of 14 and in 1885, they had a daughter Lelia. Widowed two years later, Sarah Breedlove McWilliams and her daughter moved to St. Louis, where she worked as a laundress and studied at night school.[2] Breedlove McWilliams suffered from hair loss, which inspired experimentation with homemade hair care remedies, resulting in products that promoted healthy hair growth.[3]
In 1906, while living in Denver, Colorado, Breedlove McWilliams married Charles Joseph Walker, who worked in advertising. She became known as Madam C.J. Walker and decided to sell her own hair care products under her new moniker.[4] The new name evoked a French flair to make her products more impressive to potential buyers as opposed to a “condescending name like ‘Aunt Sarah.’”[5] In 1908, while living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Walker founded Lelia College, named for her daughter, which offered a course in her hair care and beauty methods to aspiring “hair culturists”.[6] In 1910, the Walkers moved to Indianapolis, Indiana, where she opened a laboratory and a beauty school. Walker and her husband divorced in 1912.[7]
The Madam C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company included a factory, and along with the laboratory and beauty school, manufactured Walker’s beauty products and trained her nationwide sales force of “beauty culturists” using the “The Walker System”. With the factory employees and thousands of African American women sales agents across the country, Walker ran a successful line of cosmetic and hair care products that not only promoted hair growth, but hair and skin beautification as well. Her agents made sales and educated customers on the importance of hygiene and presenting oneself in a clean and proper manner.[8] In 1916, her agents organized into the National Beauty Culturist and Benevolent Association of Madame C.J. Walker Agents, later known as the Madam C.J. Walker Hair Culturists Union of America, holding annual conventions.[9] Walker encouraged her sales agents to give back to improve society, giving rewards to the sales agents who made the largest philanthropic contributions in their African American communities.
Walker was an active philanthropist and social activist in Indianapolis. In all areas of her life, she strove for and demanded equal rights, including filing suit against the Isis Theater for charging a higher admission rate (25 cents vs. 15 cents) for African American patrons. She protested segregation within the military during World War I and advocated for an African American army officer training camp.[10] Madam Walker donated to multiple African American charities and community organizations in Indianapolis such as the Senate Avenue YMCA, the Bethel AME Church, Flanner House, and Alpha Home. On a nationwide level, she contributed to campaigns to stop lynching and supported the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), which was newly- formed in 1909.[11]
Throughout her life, Madam C.J. Walker worked tirelessly to create a better life for herself, her family, and her African American community in a segregated Indianapolis. The hard work and hardship took its toll, and she developed health issues in her late forties.[12] In April 1919, she passed away on May 25, 1919 at the age of 51.[13] At the time of her death, she was worth an estimated $600,000 (over $6 million in 2020 dollars), and was considered the wealthiest African American woman in America.[14] She is often lauded as the “America’s first self-made female millionaire."[15]
The legacy of Madam C.J. Walker is exemplified in the personal pride, entrepreneurship, and sense of civic responsibility that her products, business, and personal life instilled in African Americans, especially African American women, throughout the country. After Walker’s death, her daughter took over the Walker Manufacturing Company and in 1927, moved the factory and headquarters to the newly built Walker Building in Indianapolis. The building included a ballroom, theater, hair salon, other public spaces, and became an African American community cultural center.[16] The Walker Building, and the surrounding Indiana Avenue neighborhood, became a hub for the African American arts, culture, and jazz scene in segregated Indianapolis through the 1960s. A tangible reminder of her legacy, The Madame C.J. Walker Building was listed in the National Register for Historic Places in 1980 and was designated as a National Historic Landmark in 1991.[17]
Charles Gordone was born on October 12, 1925 in Cleveland, Ohio. Born Charles Edward Fleming, he took the surname Gordon when his mother remarried. When he was two years old, he and his family moved to his mother’s hometown of Elkhart, Indiana. As an African American growing up in Indiana in the 1930s, Gordon experienced discrimination both because of his race (white children would not associate with him) and due to cultural norms (other African Americans shunned the family because they lived on the “white” side of Elkhart).[1] He graduated from Elkhart High School in 1941.
In 1942, Gordon joined the U.S. Air Force after spending a semester at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA).[2] After two years of service, Gordon returned to Los Angeles to study music and drama. It was there that he first experienced racial discrimination in the performing arts as “I was always cast in subservient or stereotypical roles.”[3] These experiences with racial discrimination in Elkhart and Los Angeles would influence the rest of his career as he worked for civil rights in the performing arts and theatre industries. After graduating from California State University, he relocated to New York City to pursue an acting career. It was then that he added an “e” to his surname, to become Gordone, to avoid confusion with another actor with the same name.[4]
In the 1950s and 1960s, Gordone became a director in addition to acting. He directed productions such Rebels and Bugs (1958), Peer Gynt (1959), Faust (1959), Tobacco Road (1960), and Detective Story (1960).[5] From 1961 to 1966, he performed in the play The Blacks: A Clown Show, directed by Jean Genet, with other talented African American actors such as James Earl Jones, Maya Angelou, and Cecily Tyson.[6] It was this play, according to Gordone, that changed his life. The play’s theme of African Americans waging war against the white power structure and becoming the oppressor instead of the oppressed enabled Gordone, in his own words, to acknowledge the “hatred and fear I had inside me about being black”.[7] He founded a theatre in Queens, New York and in 1962, he founded the Committee for the Employment of Negroes. This organization helped increase career opportunities in theatre for African Americans. He organized protests against Broadway theaters to provide better opportunities for young African American actors.[8] He was also involved in a committee for the Congress on Racial Equality. In 1967, President Lyndon B. Johnson appointed Gordone to the Commission on Civil Disorders.
Inspired by his personal experiences, he wrote what would become his most famous play, No Place to be Somebody. It opened in May of 1969 at the New York Shakespeare Festival Public Theatre.[9] Set in the Civil Rights-era, the play highlights racial and cultural pressures in context of the characters’ ambitions and limitations because of their race.[10] The play would go on to win a Pulitzer Prize for Drama, making the play the first off-Broadway production to win a Pultizer and making Gordone the first African American to win a Pulitzer for drama.[11]
Gordone continued his civil rights activism throughout the rest of his career. In 1981, he helped form The American Stage, a theatre production company with the purpose of casting minorities into non-traditional rules, such as starring two Mexican-American actors as George and Lenny in Of Mice and Men.[12] In 1987, he began teaching theatre and theatre history at Texas A&M University, advancing racial diversity through theatre at the predominantly white campus. He passed away in1995 at the age of 70 in College Station, Texas.
In 2009, the Indiana Historical Bureau erected a marker in front of Gordeon’s hometown Elkhart Public Library to highlight and honor his achievements and contributions to civil rights and theatre.[13]
Samuel Plato was an African American architect that lived and worked in Marion, Indiana between 1902 and 1921. He was born in Alabama in 1882 when Jim Crow laws legalized segregation and often incited racial violence. He broke racial barriers by graduating from State University Normal School in Louisville in 1902.[1] He was a member of Phi Beta Sigma, an African American fraternity. He then completed a program in architecture with International Correspondence Schools.[2]
Plato moved to Marion in 1902 to work as an architect, at a time when the Ku Klux Klan recorded around half a million of members in Indiana.[3] He quickly found support from wealthy Marion business owners John Schaumleffel and J. Woodrow Wilson.[4] Plato worked to open up building trade unions in Marion to African American workers, who were previously excluded from the unions.[5] Plato was the first African American architect to acquire a government contract to build a post office, and during his career, he would build 38 post offices across the country.[6] He promoted social progress in a white-dominated field by hiring both black and white workers on his projects, creating training and jobs for African Americans.[7]
His most notable works in Indiana included the J. Woodrow Wilson House, completed in 1922. This 15-room mansion, located in Marion, was built for business owner J. Woodrow Wilson. It has also been known as the Hostess House and the Wilson-Vaughan House.[8] Plato designed the Second Baptist Church in Bloomington which opened in 1913 and was “the first church built of stone by African Americans in Indiana.”[9] He also designed the Swallow-Robin dormitory at Taylor University in Upland. This building was slated for demolition in 1986 until it was found that Plato was the architect.[10] His success as an architect and his fight for equality in the business sector brought him fame throughout Indiana. In August 1913, the Indianapolis African American newspaper from Indianapolis The Freeman described Plato as a “colored man engaged in business (…), a contractor, who has built some of the finest houses in Marion.”[11]
In the early 1920s, Plato returned to Louisville, Kentucky to continue his architectural career. While there, Plato built the Temple AME Zion Church[12] and the Virginia Avenue Colored School[13], both on the National Register for Historic Places. During World War II, Plato moved back to Alabama.[14] During this time, he was one of the few black contractors to build federal housing projects.[15] His work was acknowledged and rewarded by First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt in 1943 while she was on an inspection tour of federal dormitories for war workers in Washington, D.C.[16] Plato revolutionized the architecture field by helping to end racial discrimination in architecture and the building trades.
His projects changed the face of Marion and Indiana. The Freeman, declared, “There is no more successful contractor in Grant County, yes, I dare say Indiana, than Mr. Plato.”[17] Two of his Indiana buildings, the Wilson-Vaughan home in Marion[18] and Second Baptist Church in Bloomington[19] are on the National Register of Historic Places. He is honored with an Indiana Historical Bureau marker in Marion that emphasizes his work securing equal rights for African American workers in the building trades.[20]
Theodore Roosevelt High School in Gary, Indiana, also known as Gary Roosevelt, can trace its origins to 1908 when the Gary school board issued the segregation of all public schools. The first school for African American children in Gary was built that same year. As the population grew, African American students were also educated in other segregated schools and in portable classrooms, and by 1921, those portable classrooms were located at the present location of Gary Roosevelt.[1] Public school segregation remained in effect, but a few African American students were allowed to enroll in white schools (in segregated classes) if space existed. Under this plan, 18 African American high school students were transferred to white Emerson School in 1927. In protest, over 600 white Emerson students conducted a four-day walkout known as the Emerson Strike.[2] The strike was ended when the Gary City Council agreed to allocate funds to create an African American high school, to be named after President Theodore Roosevelt.[3]
Theodore Roosevelt High School was built in 1930 exclusively for African American students. The Gary Roosevelt building features design elements inspired by Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Additional classroom wings were added in 1946 and 1968.[4] The physical design of the Gary Roosevelt building supported what was known as the Gary System of Education or the Gary Plan. Developed by Dr. William A. Wirt, the city’s first superintendent of schools from 1907-1938, the Gary Plan was a Progressive Era educational concept, with some elements of the system playing a role in how schools function today.[5] The Gary Plan emphasized both vocational training and college preparatory classes, a lengthened school day that kept students “off the streets”, and emphasized “work-study-play” incorporating academics, vocational, and recreational activities into each school day. The Gary Plan maximized the utilization and capacity of the building, and even advocated students attending school on Saturday.[6]
Although the official school board policy of public school segregation ended in 1947[7], Gary Roosevelt, like virtually all of Gary public schools, remained segregated by the adjustment of school district and individual school boundaries. The school district boundaries were based on the racial mix of the various neighborhoods.[8] Wirt’s Gary Plan was mostly abandoned in favor of more mainstream educational ideas and in response to severe overcrowding due to a post-WWII population explosion in Gary. Adherence to segregation enforced by neighborhood racial boundaries, no matter the amount of population growth, meant that for almost 20 years, Gary Roosevelt students attended classes in rented portable classrooms or attended half-day sessions in an effort to ease the extreme overcrowding.[9]
Teachers at Gary Roosevelt have educated generations of African American children for nearly a century. The school is now known as the Theodore Roosevelt College and Career Academy, a charter school for grades 7-12. The building formerly known as Theodore Roosevelt High School is listed on the National Register of Historic Places for its architectural importance, its role in the Progressive Era in education, and the integral part it played in Gary's segregated public school system.[10]
In 1946, Jackson worked tirelessly on a court case alongside the New Jersey chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) to overturn law that prohibited African Americans from swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. This case was tried all the way to the Supreme Court and was a major victory for Jackson and the early Civil Rights movement.[1]
In Gary, Jackson fought for the integration of Marquette Park.[2] In 1949, he endorsed an organization called “Beachhead for Democracy”, organizing a march from Gary City Hall to Marquette Park to commemorate the anniversary of black troops landing at Salerno Beach, Italy during WWII.[3] Gary mayor, Eugene Swartz, although agreeing with the notion that African Americans had the “right to use all city facilities,” refused to let police protect the demonstration.[4] Reverend Jackson called out businesses and other organizations within the city for their racist and discriminatory policies.[5] Jackson forced the Gary Transit Company to hire black conductors and motormen.[6] He would help to integrate the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA), public beaches, and all public transportation. Jackson and the St. Paul Missionary Church fought for equality and justice in Gary, and “it was [their] integral efforts to improve employment opportunities and living conditions for African Americans and the Civil Rights struggles in the City of Gary that many whites in the community literally had problems with.”[7]
Jackson’s efforts in Gary put him in a national spotlight, especially with President Dwight D. Eisenhower, with whom Jackson had met with other African American ministers of the period to discuss their movement toward equality. He corresponded with other leaders including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., President John F. Kennedy, and President Lyndon B. Johnson. Jackson would congratulate or criticize these leaders for their success or failure on Civil Rights matters. In his letter to President Johnson, dated March 12, 1965, he criticized the President for his actions toward Vietnam and his lack of attention for his own citizens being beaten and segregated in the South. Jackson urges the President to take action for the people and not to turn a blind eye to domestic affairs.[8]
Jackson communicated with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in January 1966, inviting Dr. King to speak at a service for St. Paul Missionary Church’s new building. Jackson exemplifies his nature in these letters, very outspoken regarding all matters of civil rights. Dr. Martin Luther King Sr. supported this testament at a banquet honoring Jackson in 1973, referring to him as “the Daddy of the militant civil rights movement”[9] Many would consider Jackson just that, an outspoken leader, militant when he deemed necessary, calculated in his efforts, and relentless in his never-ending battle for civil liberties and equal rights.
Jackson passed away on March 2, 1977. He lived a life dedicated to his church, his people, and defending civil rights for all. Jackson was relentless in his Civil Rights efforts and his actions impacted generations of African Americans. ]]>Reverend Lester K. Jackson, who served at the St. Paul Baptist church in Gary, Indiana, was a twentieth century Civil Rights leader known for his outspoken nature in all matters related to racial equality. Jackson, like many Civil Rights leaders, focused his efforts on areas of discrimination both locally and throughout the country. His drive and ambition helped bring about multiple Civil Rights advancements in the post-World War II era.
In 1946, Jackson worked tirelessly on a court case alongside the New Jersey chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) to overturn law that prohibited African Americans from swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. This case was tried all the way to the Supreme Court and was a major victory for Jackson and the early Civil Rights movement.[1]
In Gary, Jackson fought for the integration of Marquette Park.[2] In 1949, he endorsed an organization called “Beachhead for Democracy”, organizing a march from Gary City Hall to Marquette Park to commemorate the anniversary of black troops landing at Salerno Beach, Italy during WWII.[3] Gary mayor, Eugene Swartz, although agreeing with the notion that African Americans had the “right to use all city facilities,” refused to let police protect the demonstration.[4] Reverend Jackson called out businesses and other organizations within the city for their racist and discriminatory policies.[5] Jackson forced the Gary Transit Company to hire black conductors and motormen.[6] He would help to integrate the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA), public beaches, and all public transportation. Jackson and the St. Paul Missionary Church fought for equality and justice in Gary, and “it was [their] integral efforts to improve employment opportunities and living conditions for African Americans and the Civil Rights struggles in the City of Gary that many whites in the community literally had problems with.”[7]
Jackson’s efforts in Gary put him in a national spotlight, especially with President Dwight D. Eisenhower, with whom Jackson had met with other African American ministers of the period to discuss their movement toward equality. He corresponded with other leaders including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., President John F. Kennedy, and President Lyndon B. Johnson. Jackson would congratulate or criticize these leaders for their success or failure on Civil Rights matters. In his letter to President Johnson, dated March 12, 1965, he criticized the President for his actions toward Vietnam and his lack of attention for his own citizens being beaten and segregated in the South. Jackson urges the President to take action for the people and not to turn a blind eye to domestic affairs.[8]
Jackson communicated with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in January 1966, inviting Dr. King to speak at a service for St. Paul Missionary Church’s new building. Jackson exemplifies his nature in these letters, very outspoken regarding all matters of civil rights. Dr. Martin Luther King Sr. supported this testament at a banquet honoring Jackson in 1973, referring to him as “the Daddy of the militant civil rights movement”[9] Many would consider Jackson just that, an outspoken leader, militant when he deemed necessary, calculated in his efforts, and relentless in his never-ending battle for civil liberties and equal rights.
Jackson passed away on March 2, 1977. He lived a life dedicated to his church, his people, and defending civil rights for all. Jackson was relentless in his Civil Rights efforts and his actions impacted generations of African Americans.Hall supported the reduction of urban and industrial unemployment in her district, and also supported a number of measures to solve crime, alcohol and drug abuse, particularly in cities. She endorsed the Fair Trade in Steel Act, a measure designed to revitalize Gary’s crumbling steel and manufacturing industry.[7] In addition to domestic concerns, Hall became involved in the fight against famine in Africa after a visit to Ethiopia.[8]
In 1983, Hall introduced a bill to make Martin Luther King’s birthday a federal holiday stating that for him “equality always prevailed.”[9] This bill had detractors that criticized the large cost of a paid holiday for federal employees, and several Republican senators questioned the legitimacy of King’s legacy. President Ronald Reagan signed the bill into law in November 1983, and the first Martin Luther King, Jr. Day occurred in January 1986.[10]
After retiring from Congress, she served as the vice chair of Gary’s housing board and became the city clerk in 1985. Hall passed away on February 20, 2012 in Gary, Indiana. Her work and legacy is immortalized in a marker from the Indiana Historical Bureau, installed in 2019, highlighting her effort to make Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day a reality.
]]>Katie Hall was born in 1938 in Mound Bayou, Mississippi. She graduated from Mississippi Valley State University in 1960. She then moved to Bloomington, Indiana to start her master’s degree at Indiana University.[1] She later taught social studies in Gary, Indiana, where she lived with her husband and their three children. Hall took part in local Gary political campaigns in the 1960s.[2] She was elected to the Indiana House of Representatives from 1974 to 1976, and to the Indiana Senate from 1976 to 1982. In 1982, Hall was nominated to represent her district from northern Indiana in the United States House of Representatives. White Democrats were concerned about her electability because of her race.[3] Gary’s population was primarily black, but Hall’s district was 70% white.[4] She nonetheless won with 56% of the vote and became the first black woman from Indiana elected to the U.S. House of Representatives.[5] Veteran lawmaker William Gray III stated: “She brought freshness of approach, a spirit of reconciliation to what had sometimes been a bitter battle.”[6]
Hall supported the reduction of urban and industrial unemployment in her district, and also supported a number of measures to solve crime, alcohol and drug abuse, particularly in cities. She endorsed the Fair Trade in Steel Act, a measure designed to revitalize Gary’s crumbling steel and manufacturing industry.[7] In addition to domestic concerns, Hall became involved in the fight against famine in Africa after a visit to Ethiopia.[8]
In 1983, Hall introduced a bill to make Martin Luther King’s birthday a federal holiday stating that for him “equality always prevailed.”[9] This bill had detractors that criticized the large cost of a paid holiday for federal employees, and several Republican senators questioned the legitimacy of King’s legacy. President Ronald Reagan signed the bill into law in November 1983, and the first Martin Luther King, Jr. Day occurred in January 1986.[10]
After retiring from Congress, she served as the vice chair of Gary’s housing board and became the city clerk in 1985. Hall passed away on February 20, 2012 in Gary, Indiana. Her work and legacy is immortalized in a marker from the Indiana Historical Bureau, installed in 2019, highlighting her effort to make Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day a reality.
[1] United States Congress. "Katie Hall (id: H000058)". Biographical Directory of the United States Congress. P.124
[2] House Office of History and Preservation. Black Americans in Congress, 1870-2007. Edited by Matthew Wasniewski. Third edition. Washington: United States Congress, 2008. P.530
[3] Ibid. P.532
[4] Catlin, Robert A. "Organizational Effectiveness and Black Political Participation: The Case of Katie Hall." Phylon 46 (September 1985). P.179
[5] Ibid. P.190
[6] House Office of History and Preservation. Black Americans in Congress, 1870-2007. Edited by Matthew Wasniewski. Third edition. Washington: United States Congress, 2008. P.530
[7] Ibid.
[8] United States Congress. "Katie Hall (id: H000058)". Biographical Directory of the United States Congress.
[9] House Office of History and Preservation. Black Americans in Congress, 1870-2007. Edited by Matthew Wasniewski. Third edition. Washington: United States Congress, 2008. P.532
[10] Origin of MLK Day Law. Indiana Historical Bureau. Accessed February 10, 2020.
Its founders, ten African American students at Indiana University, first organized the fraternity (originally named Kappa Alpha Nu until 1915) in January 1911[2]. The men often gathered at the Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Bloomington before they had their own fraternity house. The original motto, “Achievement in every field of Human Endeavor” formalized their goal of helping members to attain high “intellectual, moral and social worth”.[3] Kappa Alpha Psi gave African American men at Indiana University a way to participate in campus social events. In Indiana University in the 1910s, African Americans were not allowed to reside in campus housing, were denied use of university facilities, and could not participate in contact sports, leaving only track and field as athletic options.[4]
Kappa Alpha Psi, like many other Greek organizations across colleges and universities in the United States, has evolved over time. Over the years, Kappa Alpha Psi has sponsored national programs under its name feeding the homeless, funding youth and after-school programs, providing scholarships, and sponsoring other philanthropic efforts.[5] It now has over 700 chapters and 125,000 collegiate members worldwide.[6] Kappa Alpha Psi takes pride in the fact that their Constitution has never included any language that “either excluded or suggested the exclusion of a man from membership merely because of his color, creed, or national origin”.[7] Notable Kappa Alpha Psi members include Hollywood director John Singleton (University of Southern California), former 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick (University of Nevada), author and television personality Marc Lamont Hill (University of Pennsylvania), political author on race relations Charles Blow (Grambling State University) [8], and former president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People Dennis Hayes (Indiana University).[9]
The alpha Kappa Alpha Psi chapter at Indiana University dedicated its fraternity house as the Elder Watson Diggs Memorial in 1961, honoring founder and first Grand Polemarch Elder W. Diggs. In 2008, the Indiana Historical Bureau and Indiana University installed a historical marker on the site of the Elder Watson Diggs Memorial chapter house. The marker commemorates the formation of Kappa Alpha Psi and the role it played in race relations and civil rights in Indiana.[10]
]]>Greek life and its associated activities is a dominant thread in many college students’ lives. Kappa Alpha Psi was one of the first African American social fraternities in the United States.[1] The fraternity was founded in 1911 at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana, a predominantly white institution at a time when racism and prejudice were high. Kappa Alpha Psi has since dedicated their efforts to an equal brotherhood, bound only by a willingness to succeed and not by skin color, race, or background.
Its founders, ten African American students at Indiana University, first organized the fraternity (originally named Kappa Alpha Nu until 1915) in January 1911[2]. The men often gathered at the Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Bloomington before they had their own fraternity house. The original motto, “Achievement in every field of Human Endeavor” formalized their goal of helping members to attain high “intellectual, moral and social worth”.[3] Kappa Alpha Psi gave African American men at Indiana University a way to participate in campus social events. In Indiana University in the 1910s, African Americans were not allowed to reside in campus housing, were denied use of university facilities, and could not participate in contact sports, leaving only track and field as athletic options.[4]
Kappa Alpha Psi, like many other Greek organizations across colleges and universities in the United States, has evolved over time. Over the years, Kappa Alpha Psi has sponsored national programs under its name feeding the homeless, funding youth and after-school programs, providing scholarships, and sponsoring other philanthropic efforts.[5] It now has over 700 chapters and 125,000 collegiate members worldwide.[6] Kappa Alpha Psi takes pride in the fact that their Constitution has never included any language that “either excluded or suggested the exclusion of a man from membership merely because of his color, creed, or national origin”.[7] Notable Kappa Alpha Psi members include Hollywood director John Singleton (University of Southern California), former 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick (University of Nevada), author and television personality Marc Lamont Hill (University of Pennsylvania), political author on race relations Charles Blow (Grambling State University) [8], and former president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People Dennis Hayes (Indiana University).[9]
The alpha Kappa Alpha Psi chapter at Indiana University dedicated its fraternity house as the Elder Watson Diggs Memorial in 1961, honoring founder and first Grand Polemarch Elder W. Diggs. In 2008, the Indiana Historical Bureau and Indiana University installed a historical marker on the site of the Elder Watson Diggs Memorial chapter house. The marker commemorates the formation of Kappa Alpha Psi and the role it played in race relations and civil rights in Indiana.[10]
[1] Kappa Alpha Psi. “A Brief History.” Kappa Alpha Psi, Inc. https://kappaalphapsi1911.com/page/History. Accessed February 7, 2020.
[2] "Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity." Original People. January 24, 2014. Accessed April 12, 2019.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Kappa Alpha Psi. “A Brief History.” Kappa Alpha Psi, Inc. Accessed February 7, 2020.
[5] Kappa Alpha Psi. “A Brief History.” Kappa Alpha Psi, Inc. Accessed February 7, 2020.
[6] "Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity." Original People. January 24, 2014. Accessed April 12, 2019.
[7] Kappa Alpha Psi. “A Brief History.” Kappa Alpha Psi, Inc. Accessed February 7, 2020.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Kappa Alpha Psi to make a historic 'pilgrimage' to IU Bloomington to mark its centennial. Indiana University, IU News Room. Accessed February 10, 2020.
[10] Indiana Historical Bureau, Indiana Historical Markers. Accessed February 10, 2020.
[1] National Register Nominations: Bethel A.M.E. Church, Marion County, 12-19-90, Elisabeta Goodall, Author, 7.
[2] B.R. Sulgrove, History of Indianapolis and Marion County (Philadelphia: L. H. Everts, 1884), 404-05.
[3] Earline Rae Ferguson, “In Pursuit of the Full Enjoyment of Liberty and Happiness: Blacks in Antebellum Indianapolis, 1820-1860,” Black History News and Notes, no. 32 (May 1988), 7.
[4] B.R. Sulgrove, History of Indianapolis and Marion County (Philadelphia: L. H. Everts, 1884), 404-05.
[5] Ferguson, “In Pursuit of the Full Enjoyment of Liberty and Happiness: Blacks in Antebellum Indianapolis, 1820-1860,” 6.
[6] Stanley Warren, “The Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church,” Traces of Indiana and Midwestern History, 19 no. 3 (2007), 33.
[7] Ibid, 34.
[8] Sulgrove, History of Indianapolis and Marion County, 405.
[9] National Register Nominations: Bethel A.M.E. Church, Marion County, 12-19-90, Elisabeta Goodall, Author, 9.
[10] Aboard the Underground Railroad. “Bethel AME Church”. National Park Service.
[11] National Register Nominations: Bethel A.M.E. Church, 9-10.
[12] Warren, “The Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church,” 35.
[13] Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church. Indiana Historical Bureau. Accessed January 29, 2020.
[14] Warren, “The Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church,” 35.
https://images.indianahistory.org/digital/collection/p16797coll9/id/2456/rec/109 |
The National Black Political Convention took place in the gymnasium at Gary’s West Side High School, now called West Side Leadership Academy. West Side High School, built in 1968 to integrate students within the Gary School System, was the largest high school in Indiana at the time.[10] The convention hoped to cultivate a neutral space for its diverse delegates, where everyone “from members of Congress to street gang members from Chicago would feel welcome.”[11] The slogan “unity without uniformity” was the rallying cry of the convention, whose leaders hoped to create a united black political front without necessarily agreeing on methods of strategy or implementation.[12] The National Black Political Agenda which was ratified during the convention was supposed to be representative of the collective political will of African Americans nationwide.[13] From there, leaders of the convention “would then take this agenda to the Democratic and Republican National Conventions to determine which one of the two presidential candidates was more sympathetic to blacks.”[14] Then, the agenda was hoped to serve as a guide for the president in order to “guide his relationship with black Americans.”[15] However, the convention was plagued by division, especially over the issues of integration versus black nationalism, busing of African American children to white schools in order to end school segregation, and a controversial anti-Israel amendment to the agenda.[16]
At a time when the country was still experiencing violent protests and racism, managing to host a black political convention of more than eight thousand African Americans represented empowerment and progress. Among the leaders was Reverend Jesse Jackson Sr., an activist who had worked alongside Martin Luther King, Jr. in the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. He delivered a passionate speech on the significance of the convention. Other speeches focused on African American political and economic freedom, and also on tumultuous events such as the violence in Selma, Alabama, the Voting Rights Act and the deaths of major African American political figures like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X. One of the major subjects of discussion was Pan-Africanism, an intellectual movement which sought to unite people from Africa or from African descent in a collective movement internationally.[17]
The National Black Political Convention issued the Gary Declaration, a document which served as “an initial statement of goals and directions for [the delegates’] own generation, some first definitions of crucial issues around which Black people must organize and move in 1972 and beyond.”[18] For the delegates at the National Black Political Convention, the only way to implement a real change for African Americans nationwide was to develop an independent black politics and to ensure an equal representation of African American representatives in the government.[19] As the Gary Declaration states, the delegates at the National Black Political Convention found that historically, “both parties have betrayed [black Americans] whenever their interests conflicted with [black Americans’] (which was most of the time).”[20] The Gary Declaration ends with a clear call to action for all African Americans: “We begin here and now in Gary. We begin with an independent Black political movement, an independent Black Political Agenda, and independent Black spirit. Nothing less will do. We must build for our people. We must build for our world. We stand on the edge of history. We cannot turn back.”[21]
The National Black Political Convention in Gary was a euphoric event, filling its delegates with hope for the future and a sense of true empowerment.[22] It represents a distinct moment in American history in which “a formidable collection of black Americans were energized by the possibility of stepping outside the confines” of mainstream white American politics.[23] However, the National Black Agenda and Gary Declaration were “more romantic than pragmatic,” creating an idealistic stance that was “so unrealistic as to be unrealizable.”[24] The convention failed in its goals of creating a clear consensus and energizing a nationwide coalition of black citizens which could influence mainstream American politics. Nevertheless, the energy the convention created in Gary has had a clear legacy in African American politics in the United States. The National Black Political Convention is credited with the organization of black voters and candidates which would lead to significant growth in the number of African American politicians elected nationwide; from 2,200 at the time of the convention in 1972 to more than 5,000 just ten years later.[25]
]]>For three days in March 1972, the city of Gary, Indiana hosted approximately 8,000 black political leaders and citizens from across the nation.[1] These delegates came together to form the National Black Political Convention, “a distinctly black political movement” independent from both major American political parties.[2] Throughout the weekend, delegates aimed to discuss the future of African American people in America and to create a National Black Agenda that would address nationwide poverty and high unemployment rates of African Americans, along with the general alienation of African Americans from the political system across party lines.[3]
The city of Gary was chosen to host the convention despite its relatively small size and few accommodations.[4] Gary had only one hotel at the time, but was chosen “because it was a predominantly black city governed by an elected black mayor, who was able to ensure a welcoming environment for the thousands of black delegates and visitors to the convention.”[5] In 1972, Gary had a population of about 175,000, half of which were African American.[6] Mayor Richard Gordon Hatcher had been elected in November 1967, and was the first African American mayor in Indiana’s history.[7] Along with Mayor Carl Stokes of Cleveland, elected the same year, Hatcher was also the first African American mayor “to head a major American city.”[8] Hatcher was the chair of the planning conference for the convention held on September 24, 1971, and offered Gary as a host city, saying that “We should do it at a place where Black people from all over the country could feel comfortable. Wouldn’t have to worry about the police beating them. Wouldn’t have to worry about getting cooperation from city officials.”[9]
The National Black Political Convention took place in the gymnasium at Gary’s West Side High School, now called West Side Leadership Academy. West Side High School, built in 1968 to integrate students within the Gary School System, was the largest high school in Indiana at the time.[10] The convention hoped to cultivate a neutral space for its diverse delegates, where everyone “from members of Congress to street gang members from Chicago would feel welcome.”[11] The slogan “unity without uniformity” was the rallying cry of the convention, whose leaders hoped to create a united black political front without necessarily agreeing on methods of strategy or implementation.[12] The National Black Political Agenda which was ratified during the convention was supposed to be representative of the collective political will of African Americans nationwide.[13] From there, leaders of the convention “would then take this agenda to the Democratic and Republican National Conventions to determine which one of the two presidential candidates was more sympathetic to blacks.”[14] Then, the agenda was hoped to serve as a guide for the president in order to “guide his relationship with black Americans.”[15] However, the convention was plagued by division, especially over the issues of integration versus black nationalism, busing of African American children to white schools in order to end school segregation, and a controversial anti-Israel amendment to the agenda.[16]
At a time when the country was still experiencing violent protests and racism, managing to host a black political convention of more than eight thousand African Americans represented empowerment and progress. Among the leaders was Reverend Jesse Jackson Sr., an activist who had worked alongside Martin Luther King, Jr. in the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. He delivered a passionate speech on the significance of the convention. Other speeches focused on African American political and economic freedom, and also on tumultuous events such as the violence in Selma, Alabama, the Voting Rights Act and the deaths of major African American political figures like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X. One of the major subjects of discussion was Pan-Africanism, an intellectual movement which sought to unite people from Africa or from African descent in a collective movement internationally.[17]
The National Black Political Convention issued the Gary Declaration, a document which served as “an initial statement of goals and directions for [the delegates’] own generation, some first definitions of crucial issues around which Black people must organize and move in 1972 and beyond.”[18] For the delegates at the National Black Political Convention, the only way to implement a real change for African Americans nationwide was to develop an independent black politics and to ensure an equal representation of African American representatives in the government.[19] As the Gary Declaration states, the delegates at the National Black Political Convention found that historically, “both parties have betrayed [black Americans] whenever their interests conflicted with [black Americans’] (which was most of the time).”[20] The Gary Declaration ends with a clear call to action for all African Americans: “We begin here and now in Gary. We begin with an independent Black political movement, an independent Black Political Agenda, and independent Black spirit. Nothing less will do. We must build for our people. We must build for our world. We stand on the edge of history. We cannot turn back.”[21]
The National Black Political Convention in Gary was a euphoric event, filling its delegates with hope for the future and a sense of true empowerment.[22] It represents a distinct moment in American history in which “a formidable collection of black Americans were energized by the possibility of stepping outside the confines” of mainstream white American politics.[23] However, the National Black Agenda and Gary Declaration were “more romantic than pragmatic,” creating an idealistic stance that was “so unrealistic as to be unrealizable.”[24] The convention failed in its goals of creating a clear consensus and energizing a nationwide coalition of black citizens which could influence mainstream American politics. Nevertheless, the energy the convention created in Gary has had a clear legacy in African American politics in the United States. The National Black Political Convention is credited with the organization of black voters and candidates which would lead to significant growth in the number of African American politicians elected nationwide; from 2,200 at the time of the convention in 1972 to more than 5,000 just ten years later.[25]
The Walker Theatre was named after Madam C.J. Walker, a successful African American entrepreneur who developed a revolutionary line of beauty and hygiene products for African American women. Her profits from the Madam C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company made her one of the wealthiest people in the nation, but Walker’s recognition as the first black female millionaire in the United States is a myth; her estate was worth approximately $600,000 at the time of her death in 1919.[5] Nevertheless, Walker used her success and wealth to advocate for African American rights and improve the lives of black women in her community. As her business expanded, it began to outgrow its original Indianapolis headquarters, and Madam Walker started planning the Walker Building, constructed after her death.[6]
The building, designed by the premier Indianapolis architectural firm Rubush and Hunter, held a new factory and office space for the Walker Company, as well as a casino, drugstore, coffee shop, and additional offices for rent.[7] The Walker Theatre was a special project of Madam Walker’s, intended as a place of entertainment for the local African American community.[8] The movie theater was a particularly notable addition to the building, as Madam Walker herself had experienced discrimination in Indianapolis movie theaters.[9] In 1915, she sued the Central Amusement Company, which owned the Isis Theatre in Indianapolis, for its discriminatory pricing; African American patrons were required to pay an extra 15 cents for admission.[10] Soon after its opening, the Madam CJ Walker Theatre Center developed into a lasting cultural cornerstone on historic Indiana Avenue.
The Walker Building was constructed by the William P. Jungclaus Company.[11] It was lavishly built in the style of the Art Deco movement, popular during the 1920s. The Walker Building is significant because it is decorated heavily with African elements, using terra cotta accents of African, Moorish, and Egyptian symbols.[12] Sphinxes, Yoruba masks, shields and spears are found throughout the building, especially in the extravagant ballroom and theater, marking the building as a source of racial pride for African Americans, something Madam Walker strove to create in all of her endeavors.[13]
The Madame C.J. Walker building was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1986.[14] From 1979-1988, the Madame Walker Urban Life Center, the not-for-profit organization that owns the building, oversaw extensive renovations to the Madam C.J. Walker Building, including the Walker Theatre.[15] The renovated site is now known as the Madam Walker Legacy Center. In 2018, the Madam Walker Legacy Center partnered with Indiana University and began another round of renovations of the building, funded by a 15 million dollar Lilly Endowment Grant.[16] This partnership will not only ensure the continuation of the Walker Theatre as a cultural landmark, but also equip the Madam Walker Legacy Center with the resources and means to revitalize the heritage of Indiana Avenue. As Stephanie Nixon, the former chair of the board of the Madam Walker Legacy Center, stated, “It is truly the start of a new day for the Walker.”[17]
]]>The Walker Theatre is a part of the Madam C.J. Walker Building constructed in 1927 at 617 Indiana Avenue in Indianapolis.[1] The building opened to fanfare on December 26, 1927, with presentations of the feature film The Magic Flame and performances of a Chicago-based dance ensemble set to an orchestra both showing at various times throughout the week for 25 to 40 cents.[2] The Walker Theatre was regularly advertised and reviewed in the black newspaper, Indianapolis Recorder, promoting its “Vaudeville and First-Run Pictures.”[3] The theatre joined a vibrant culture of African American entertainment along Indiana Avenue, known for its dance halls, taverns, and jazz clubs.[4]
The Walker Theatre was named after Madam C.J. Walker, a successful African American entrepreneur who developed a revolutionary line of beauty and hygiene products for African American women. Her profits from the Madam C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company made her one of the wealthiest people in the nation, but Walker’s recognition as the first black female millionaire in the United States is a myth; her estate was worth approximately $600,000 at the time of her death in 1919.[5] Nevertheless, Walker used her success and wealth to advocate for African American rights and improve the lives of black women in her community. As her business expanded, it began to outgrow its original Indianapolis headquarters, and Madam Walker started planning the Walker Building, constructed after her death.[6]
The building, designed by the premier Indianapolis architectural firm Rubush and Hunter, held a new factory and office space for the Walker Company, as well as a casino, drugstore, coffee shop, and additional offices for rent.[7] The Walker Theatre was a special project of Madam Walker’s, intended as a place of entertainment for the local African American community.[8] The movie theater was a particularly notable addition to the building, as Madam Walker herself had experienced discrimination in Indianapolis movie theaters.[9] In 1915, she sued the Central Amusement Company, which owned the Isis Theatre in Indianapolis, for its discriminatory pricing; African American patrons were required to pay an extra 15 cents for admission.[10] Soon after its opening, the Madam CJ Walker Theatre Center developed into a lasting cultural cornerstone on historic Indiana Avenue.
The Walker Building was constructed by the William P. Jungclaus Company.[11] It was lavishly built in the style of the Art Deco movement, popular during the 1920s. The Walker Building is significant because it is decorated heavily with African elements, using terra cotta accents of African, Moorish, and Egyptian symbols.[12] Sphinxes, Yoruba masks, shields and spears are found throughout the building, especially in the extravagant ballroom and theater, marking the building as a source of racial pride for African Americans, something Madam Walker strove to create in all of her endeavors.[13]
The Madame C.J. Walker building was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1986.[14] From 1979-1988, the Madame Walker Urban Life Center, the not-for-profit organization that owns the building, oversaw extensive renovations to the Madam C.J. Walker Building, including the Walker Theatre.[15] The renovated site is now known as the Madam Walker Legacy Center. In 2018, the Madam Walker Legacy Center partnered with Indiana University and began another round of renovations of the building, funded by a 15 million dollar Lilly Endowment Grant.[16] This partnership will not only ensure the continuation of the Walker Theatre as a cultural landmark, but also equip the Madam Walker Legacy Center with the resources and means to revitalize the heritage of Indiana Avenue. As Stephanie Nixon, the former chair of the board of the Madam Walker Legacy Center, stated, “It is truly the start of a new day for the Walker.”[17]
In 1914, one of the best African American baseball managers at the time, Charles “C.I.” Taylor, moved to Indianapolis and bought a half-interest in the team.[7] Taylor began to search across the country for some of the best African American baseball players to join the ABCs.[8] As the team improved and traveled, it gained many African American followers and even some white fans.[9] One of the most famous ABCs fans was Indianapolis African American businesswoman Madam C.J. Walker. She attended many games at Northwestern Park and later Washington Park, after the team signed a lease to use the stadium.[10] Washington Park was the site of the first game in the National Negro League in 1920 between the Indianapolis ABCs and the Chicago Giants. The lease with Washington Park allowed the ABCs to play more home games than other teams in their league, which allowed fans around the city more opportunities to see the ABCs in action.[11]
As Ku Klux Klan activity increased in the 1920s, the KKK attempted to suppress opportunities of African American sports teams by making it harder for those teams to receive a stadium lease for ballparks owned by whites.[12] Even though the ABCs were able to secure a stadium lease, there were other instances of discrimination. In 1914, the Hoosier Federals of the whites only Federal League was one of the best teams in the state, and many people wanted to the ABCs and Federals to play in an exhibition game. However, Federals owner W.H. Watkins denied the decision, afraid if his team lost to an African American team it may ruin their reputation as a strong opponent.[13] This decision by white teams not to play the ABCs frustrated many of the ABCs players. In response, Wallace Gordon, the second baseman for the ABCs, wrote a poem to the Indianapolis Ledger where he stresses that he just wanted these teams to give them a chance and meet them “face to face.”[14]
In 1920, the Negro National League was formed, with the ABCs one of the original teams.[15] By joining the Negro National League, the team was able play league opponents such as the Kansas City Monarchs, gaining a much larger regional following.[16] The ABCs continued to face discrimination as they traveled across the country. Often times, the ABCs would not be able to find hotel or restaurant accommodations in the cities they visited.[17] The third baseman of the ABCs mentioned how “you could find places, but they wouldn’t serve you and that was rough…. I’d just go somewhere and get me a loaf of bread and a can of sardines…. I don’t know sometimes I wonder myself what kept us going?”[18]
After being one of the top teams in the Negro National League between 1920 and 1923, the ABCs had difficulties in the late 1920s and 1930s.[19] Many of the better ABC players moved to the Eastern Colored League, due to better financial opportunities in larger markets.[20] The Great Depression hit the nation in 1929; the ABCs were also affected by the economic collapse. In order to save money on bus fare, the team began to take road trips in cars loaded with passengers and gear. Sadly, this led to a tragedy in 1935 when six ABCs were in a car that flipped, killing first baseman Carl Lewis.[21] The team continued playing through the Depression, operating at a semi-professional level starting in 1935 because of financial struggles.[22] The Indianapolis ABCs would play their last game in 1940 at Perry Stadium in Indianapolis, later known as Bush Stadium.[23]
Despite the collapse of the ABCs, the team was an influential part of the African American community in Indianapolis. They gave African Americans a home team to cheer for and take pride in for over 30 years. The significance of Washington Park, the home field of the Indianapolis ABCs and the location of the first game of the Negro National League, is commemorated with a historical marker erected by the Indiana Historical Bureau and the Society for American Baseball Research, Negro Leagues Research Committee in 2011.[24] The ABCs would pave the way for another African American baseball team in the city: the Indianapolis Clowns. The Clowns would play during a time of great change in the world of baseball, namely racial desegregation within Major League Baseball. ]]>Baseball has been considered America’s past time for over a century. It has been played by people of all ages and all races since its creation. As more African Americans began to move to Indianapolis around the turn of the twentieth century, many African American athletic teams were created.[1] The Indianapolis ABCs, a professional baseball team established in 1902, was sponsored by the American Brewing Company in its early years.[2] As the team traveled around the country to play exhibition games, the American Brewing Company would supply kegs of beer for fans’ refreshment as a marketing tool.[3] Early on, the ABCs played their home games at Indianapolis’ Northwestern Park which was located at 18th Street and Brighton Boulevard at a field surrounded by wooden grandstands.[4] Most opponents were local, but they did play regional teams on major holidays in the summer.[5] Not only did the ABCs gain the attention of the local African American community, they were also recognized nationally through the coverage of journalist David Wyatt in the Indianapolis Freeman.[6]
In 1914, one of the best African American baseball managers at the time, Charles “C.I.” Taylor, moved to Indianapolis and bought a half-interest in the team.[7] Taylor began to search across the country for some of the best African American baseball players to join the ABCs.[8] As the team improved and traveled, it gained many African American followers and even some white fans.[9] One of the most famous ABCs fans was Indianapolis African American businesswoman Madam C.J. Walker. She attended many games at Northwestern Park and later Washington Park, after the team signed a lease to use the stadium.[10] Washington Park was the site of the first game in the National Negro League in 1920 between the Indianapolis ABCs and the Chicago Giants. The lease with Washington Park allowed the ABCs to play more home games than other teams in their league, which allowed fans around the city more opportunities to see the ABCs in action.[11]
As Ku Klux Klan activity increased in the 1920s, the KKK attempted to suppress opportunities of African American sports teams by making it harder for those teams to receive a stadium lease for ballparks owned by whites.[12] Even though the ABCs were able to secure a stadium lease, there were other instances of discrimination. In 1914, the Hoosier Federals of the whites only Federal League was one of the best teams in the state, and many people wanted to the ABCs and Federals to play in an exhibition game. However, Federals owner W.H. Watkins denied the decision, afraid if his team lost to an African American team it may ruin their reputation as a strong opponent.[13] This decision by white teams not to play the ABCs frustrated many of the ABCs players. In response, Wallace Gordon, the second baseman for the ABCs, wrote a poem to the Indianapolis Ledger where he stresses that he just wanted these teams to give them a chance and meet them “face to face.”[14]
In 1920, the Negro National League was formed, with the ABCs one of the original teams.[15] By joining the Negro National League, the team was able play league opponents such as the Kansas City Monarchs, gaining a much larger regional following.[16] The ABCs continued to face discrimination as they traveled across the country. Often times, the ABCs would not be able to find hotel or restaurant accommodations in the cities they visited.[17] The third baseman of the ABCs mentioned how “you could find places, but they wouldn’t serve you and that was rough…. I’d just go somewhere and get me a loaf of bread and a can of sardines…. I don’t know sometimes I wonder myself what kept us going?”[18]
After being one of the top teams in the Negro National League between 1920 and 1923, the ABCs had difficulties in the late 1920s and 1930s.[19] Many of the better ABC players moved to the Eastern Colored League, due to better financial opportunities in larger markets.[20] The Great Depression hit the nation in 1929; the ABCs were also affected by the economic collapse. In order to save money on bus fare, the team began to take road trips in cars loaded with passengers and gear. Sadly, this led to a tragedy in 1935 when six ABCs were in a car that flipped, killing first baseman Carl Lewis.[21] The team continued playing through the Depression, operating at a semi-professional level starting in 1935 because of financial struggles.[22] The Indianapolis ABCs would play their last game in 1940 at Perry Stadium in Indianapolis, later known as Bush Stadium.[23]
Despite the collapse of the ABCs, the team was an influential part of the African American community in Indianapolis. They gave African Americans a home team to cheer for and take pride in for over 30 years. The significance of Washington Park, the home field of the Indianapolis ABCs and the location of the first game of the Negro National League, is commemorated with a historical marker erected by the Indiana Historical Bureau and the Society for American Baseball Research, Negro Leagues Research Committee in 2011.[24] The ABCs would pave the way for another African American baseball team in the city: the Indianapolis Clowns. The Clowns would play during a time of great change in the world of baseball, namely racial desegregation within Major League Baseball.In 1946, the national YMCA leadership decided to desegregate facilities across the country.[16] Despite this change in policy, the Senate Avenue YMCA membership remained predominantly African American.[17] Under DeFrantz, the Senate Avenue YMCA grew from 350 members in 1913 to 5000 members when he retired in 1951.[18] During this time, he helped develop the largest African American YMCA in the country and a better sense of community among blacks living in Indianapolis.[19] The Senate Avenue branch would continue succeed following DeFrantz’s retirement until activities would later be moved to a new facility at Fall Creek Parkway and 10th Street on September 13, 1959.[20]
Over its 46-year history, the Senate Avenue YMCA gave opportunities to African Americans living in Indianapolis that they may have not received anywhere else in the city. They provided classes and the tools needed for African Americans to be professionally prepared and socially aware of the changes occurring in American society. By having a designated facility to meet, a stronger sense of community developed among African Americans living in the state capitol. The Senate Avenue YMCA branch closed in 1959, but its legacy continued through the twentieth century with the construction of the Fall Creek YMCA, which remained open until the fall of 2003.[21] In 2016, the Indiana Historical Bureau and the YMCA of Greater Indianapolis installed a historical marker at the site.[22]
At the turn of the twentieth century, discrimination around the country was still a dominant factor in American society. This included Indiana, which had segregated schools, neighborhoods, and gathering places. To continue with the idea of “separate but equal,” many white officials in Indianapolis attempted to create a separate YMCA for African Americans in 1900.[1] In response to this, two African American physicians, Henry Hummons and Dan Brown, organized a group of black citizens to discuss the need for “wholesome” recreational facilities.[2] They wanted to create a “permanent quarters with which there will be connected a reading-room, educational classrooms, a gymnasium and bathrooms” for the African American men living in Indianapolis.[3] After discussing this need, the men created the Young Men’s Prayer Band as a stepping stone toward an African American YMCA in the state capitol.[4] Two years later, the Young Men’s Prayer Band was recognized by the YMCA after John Evans arrived to oversee the organization and help it move towards this status.[5]
In the early years of the organization, Indianapolis African Americans would meet in private homes, churches, and a deserted neighborhood house called the Flanner Guild because they did not have a designated location in the city.[6] Despite this setback, the community began to become more involved with the Young Men’s Prayer Band, and in 1910, it became an official YMCA for African Americans in the city.[7] Even after this milestone, the branch did not have its own facility until three years later in 1913 when a new building at the corner of Senate Avenue and Michigan Street opened its doors to the African American community with a dedication speech given by civil rights activist Booker T. Washington.[8] This was a major accomplishment for African Americans living in Indianapolis. By having a place where black men could learn and interact with each other, the Senate Avenue YMCA was improving the lives of African Americans in Indianapolis.
As the building opened, Faburn DeFrantz arrived in Indianapolis from Washington D.C. to serve as the physical director of the Senate Avenue YMCA, and three years later as the executive secretary of the branch.[9] As the leader of the Senate Avenue YMCA, DeFrantz developed classes in athletics, Bible study, school subjects, automotive repairs, and many more to help African American men prepare for jobs and improve their lives.[10] In addition, DeFrantz continued one of the most influential programs at the Indianapolis branch since 1904: the “Monster Meetings.”[11] These meetings discussed a variety of topics including education, religion, science, and politics to help the African American community have a better understanding of news from around the country.[12] Some of these meetings were led by famous speakers such as W.E.B. DuBois, Madam C.J. Walker, and Eleanor Roosevelt.[13] Under DeFrantz, the Senate Avenue Branch was also politically active by attempting to end school segregation and promoting job opportunities for African Americans in the city.[14] Along with pushing for civil rights, the branch also assisted African American families during the Great Depression by providing housing and food for men and boys. At the start of the Depression, from January to October of 1931, the Senate Avenue YMCA provided 4,827 nights of free lodging and 3,200 free meals for the African American community to help them get through the hard times.[15]
In 1946, the national YMCA leadership decided to desegregate facilities across the country.[16] Despite this change in policy, the Senate Avenue YMCA membership remained predominantly African American.[17] Under DeFrantz, the Senate Avenue YMCA grew from 350 members in 1913 to 5000 members when he retired in 1951.[18] During this time, he helped develop the largest African American YMCA in the country and a better sense of community among blacks living in Indianapolis.[19] The Senate Avenue branch would continue succeed following DeFrantz’s retirement until activities would later be moved to a new facility at Fall Creek Parkway and 10th Street on September 13, 1959.[20]
Over its 46-year history, the Senate Avenue YMCA gave opportunities to African Americans living in Indianapolis that they may have not received anywhere else in the city. They provided classes and the tools needed for African Americans to be professionally prepared and socially aware of the changes occurring in American society. By having a designated facility to meet, a stronger sense of community developed among African Americans living in the state capitol. The Senate Avenue YMCA branch closed in 1959, but its legacy continued through the twentieth century with the construction of the Fall Creek YMCA, which remained open until the fall of 2003.[21] In 2016, the Indiana Historical Bureau and the YMCA of Greater Indianapolis installed a historical marker at the site.[22]
[1] David J.Bodenhamer and Robert G. Barrows, and David Gordon Vanderstel, The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994), 1249.
[2] Ibid.
[3] “Colored Y.M.C.A.,” Indianapolis News, March 31, 1902, 2, https://newspapers.library.in.gov/?a=d&d=INN19020331-01.1.2&srpos=2&e=31-03-1902-----en-20-INN-1-byDA-txt-txIN-Colored------.
[4] Bodenhamer and Barrows and Vanderstel, The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, 1249.
[5] Nina Mjagkij, Light in the Darkness : African Americans and the YMCA, 1852-1946(Lexington, Ky: University Press of Kentucky, 1994), 58.
[6] Bodenhamer and Barows and Vanderstel, The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, 1249.
[7] Bodenhamer and Barows and Vanderstel, The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, 1249.
[8] Stanley Warren, "The Monster Meetings at the Negro YMCA in Indianapolis." Indiana Magazine of History 91, no. 1 (1995).
[9] Joseph Skvarenina, “Farburn E. DeFrantz and the Senate Avenue YMCA,” Traces 20 no. 1 (2008): 37
[10] Ibid, 38
[11] Bodenhamer and Barows and Vanderstel, The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, 1250
[12] Skvarenina, “Faburn E. DeFrantz,” 37.
[13] Ibid.
[14] Skvarenina, “Faburn E. DeFrantz,” 38.
[15] Mjagkij, Light in the Darkness, 117.
[16] “YMCA Adopts Recommendation to Drop Racial Segregation,” Indianapolis Recorder, March 23, 1946, 1.
[17] Bodenhamer and Barows and Vanderstel, The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, 1250.
[18] Skvarenina, “Faburn E. DeFrantz,” 39.
[19] Bodenhamer and Barows and Vanderstel, The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, 1250.
[20] “Sunday Set For Official ‘Y’ Dedication,” Indianapolis Recorder, September 12, 1959, 1.
[21] Sara Galer, “Fall Creek YMCA to be demolished,” WTHR, May 6, 2010, last updated April 15, 2016.
[22] Indiana Historical Bureau, Senate Avenue YMCA.
Better Homes of South Bend was a corporation created in May 1950 in an effort to combat housing discrimination against African Americans. African Americans who worked at the South Bend Studebaker plant started the group. Most members lived in World War II-era prefabricated houses on Prairie Street near the Studebaker factory. They established a corporation to provide a better chance of securing homes outside of the slums near the factories.The members “wanted to find homes away from the factories and slums that surrounded them and give their children a better start in life than they themselves had."[1] Better Homes of South Bend’s attorney, J. Chester Allen, kept the location of potential neighborhoods a secret in an effort to get families moved into anew area with as little resistance as possible. In the 1950s, not everyone was open to the idea of African American families living in their neighborhood.[2]
The members of Better Homes of South Bend all had Southern roots. Either they or their parents had moved to the North to escape Jim Crow laws that enforced racial segregation. Although the members had moved to South Bend looking for a better lifeamid relatively good paying manufacturing jobs, they were unable to escape discrimination. Two of the biggest challenges they faced were discrimination in housing and employment. Reverend B.F. Gordon attested to the discrimination of African Americans in South Bend in his 1922 book The Negro in South Bend: A Social Study. “Give him the same recreational opportunities, the same educational opportunities, the same industrial advantages (in particular those advantages that call for better education, and personal conduct,) and the same privileges to buy and sell, land or commodities...”[3]
African Americans in South Bend were seeking equal opportunities.On June 25, 1941, President Roosevelt issued Executive Order 8802, which states,“I do hereby reaffirm the policy of the United States that there shall be no discrimination in the employment of workers in defense industries or government because of race, creed, color, or national origin.”[4] However, as was evident in South Bend, public opinion was strong enough to disregard the executive order in the workplace. Gabrielle Robinson addresses the employment discrimination of African Americans in the book, The Better Homes of South Bend. “Yet they had not found the equal treatment in the North for which they had hoped. Many factories in South Bend did not hire African Americans.”[5] The Studebaker plant was the biggest employer of African Americans in South Bend.
After World War II, housing discrimination intensified. White families moved to the suburbs and the west side of South Bend by the factories became almost exclusively African American. Better Homes of South Bend members lived primarily on Prairie Avenue, defined as “slum” in the Fact Sheet on Housing in 1952.[6] "This white flight took with it private and public investment in housing, schools, roads and infrastructure, leaving a deteriorating center to the poor."[7] This deterioration of infrastructure drove Better Homes for South Bend members to secure land to buildhousing in a less developed part of the city. The corporation settled on the 1700-1800 block on North Elmer Street as their housing destination, where a handful of white families currently resided. The collective power of the corporation enabled the members to secure land, loans, and contractors for 22 houses.[8] After extensive discrimination and hardship, the group was able to secure a contractor, Max Meyer, at a reasonable price. Three years after Better Homes of South Bend was created, the members finally had houses built and ready to occupyon North Elmer Street. The discrimination that Better Homes of South Bend members faced was notisolated to South Bend. Housing discrimination against African Americans occurred in Indianapolis as well. An article in the 1944 Indianapolis Recorder discusses the utter lack of acceptable housing for African American workers in the city.[9] Many of these workers migrated to Indianapolis as part of The Great Migration. From 1916 to 1970, over six million African Americans migrated from the South to cities in the North, including Indianapolis and South Bend. The first wave occurred prior to World War I and the second wave prior to World War II. “African Americans sought an alternative to sharecropping, disenfranchisement, and racial injustice in the South.”[10]
Before the Better Homes of South Bend formed in 1950, Congress passed the Housing Act of 1949. “In passing the Housing Act of 1949, Congress defined the policy of the United States to include the requirements of a decent home and a suitable living environment for every American family.”[11] However, this Act did not change the living situation for Better Homes of South Bend members; they fought and improved their situation themselves. For instance, in order to build homes for black members, a competent contractor was needed, one that would use the same quality of material that was used to build white homes. Margaret Cobb stated “the contractors they met with ‘only wanted to give us substandard materials’ to build their homes because members were black.”[12] Fortunately, Better Homes for South Bend were able to hire contractors who were willing to build homes with high-quality materials regardless of the race of the occupants-to-be. Many of those 22 homes still stand today on North Elmer Street, a testament to one group’s efforts to fight racial discrimination.[13]
[1] Gabrielle Robinson, Better Homes of South Bend (Charleston: The History Press, 2015), 26.
[2] Ibid, 14.
[3] Reverend B.F. Gordon, The Negro in South Bend (South Bend: 1922), 2.
[4] Executive Order 8802 dated June 25, 1941, General Records of the United States Government; Record Group 11; National Archives.
[5] Gabrielle Robinson, Better Homes of South Bend (Charleston: The History Press, 2015), 14.
[6] “Fact sheet on housing, South Bend, circa 1952” (South Bend, 1952), 1.
[7] Gabrielle Robinson, Better Homes of South Bend (Charleston: The History Press, 2015), 48.
[8] Better Homes for South Bend Historical Marker. Indiana Historical Bureau, 2017. Accessed January 14, 2020.
[9] “Local Housing Evils Cited to FHA Officers,” Indianapolis Recorder 48, 20 (1944): 2, accessed April 5, 2019.
[10] Joe William Trotter, "The Great Migration," OAH Magazine of History 17, no. 1 (2002): 31.
[11] “Discrimination Against Minorities In The Federal Housing Programs,” Indiana Law Journal 31, 4 (1956): 501, accessed April 5, 2019,
[12] Annette Scherber, “‘Better Homes Wants to Have a Fair Shake’: Fighting Housing Discrimination in Postwar South Bend” Indiana History Blog. Accessed January 7, 2020.
[13] Better Homes for South Bend Historical Marker. Indiana Historical Bureau, 2017. Accessed January 14, 2020.
[1] Drenovsky, Rachel L. "A Community within a Community: Indianapolis's Lockefield Gardens." Traces of Indiana and Midwestern History.
[2] "Lockefield Gardens Apartments--Indianapolis: A Discover Our Shared Heritage Travel Itinerary." National Parks Service.
[3] Barrows, Robert G. "The Local Origins of a New Deal Housing Project: The Case of Lockefield Gardens in Indianapolis." Indiana Magazine of History.
[4] Historic District: Lockefield Gardens." Indy.gov. Accessed April 10, 2019.
[5] Drenovsky, Rachel L. "A Community within a Community: Indianapolis's Lockefield Gardens." Traces of Indiana and Midwestern History
[6]"Historic District: Lockefield Gardens." Indy.gov. Accessed April 10, 2019.
[7] Ibid.
[8] “106 Success Story: New Deal Public Housing Gets New Life.” Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. Washington, D.C., n.d.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Staff, WFIU. "Lockfield Gardens." Moment of Indiana History - Indiana Public Media. February 14, 2005.
[11] “106 Success Story: New Deal Public Housing Gets New Life.” Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. Washington, D.C., n.d.
[12] Jaynes, Gerald D. Encyclopedia of African American Society, Volume 2. Sage Publications. 2005.
[13] “106 Success Story: New Deal Public Housing Gets New Life.” Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. Washington, D.C., n.d.
[14] "Lockefield Gardens Apartments--Indianapolis: A Discover Our Shared Heritage Travel Itinerary." National Parks Service.
[1] War Department Letter to Governor Morton, November 30, 1863.
[2] George P. Clark and Shirley E. Clark, “Heroes Carved in Ebony: Indiana’s Black Civil War Regiment, the 28th USCT,” Traces of Indiana and Midwestern History 7, no. 3 (1995): 6.
[3] John H. Eicher and David J. Eicher, Civil War High Commands, Stanford University Press, 2001, p. 466
[4] Clark and Clark, “Heroes Carved in Ebony,” 9.[5]Ibid.
[6] Indiana Historical Bureau, “Indiana’s 28th Regiment: Black Soldiers for the Union,” The
Indiana Historian (1994): 7.
[7] “28th Regiment, United States Colored Troops,” Indiana War Memorials, accessed April 19, 2019, https://www.in.gov/iwm/2397.htm.
[8] Clark and Clark, “Heroes Carved in Ebony,” 9.
[9] Colin Hennessy and Brock E. Barry, “The Civil War Battle of the Crater: An Engineering Inspiration,” Civil Engineering 83, no. 9 (2013): 63.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Clark and Clark, “Heroes Carved in Ebony,” 10.
[12] Ibid.
[13] William F. Fox, Regimental Losses in the American Civil War 1861–1865, (Albany, NY: Albany Publishing Co., 1889), Chapter VI.
[14] Clark and Clark, “Heroes Carved in Ebony,” 5. [15] Ibid., 12.
[16] Indiana Historical Bureau, “Indiana’s 28th Regiment: Black Soldiers for the Union,” The Indiana Historian (1994): 13.
[17] Clark and Clark, “Heroes Carved in Ebony,” 12. [18] Ibid.
[19] Ibid., 14.
[20] Ibid., 7.
[21] Ibid.
[22] Ibid., 12.
[23] Ibid., 14.
[24] “28th Regiment USCT,” Indiana Historical Bureau, accessed September 26, 2019, https://www.in.gov/history/markers/3.htm.
[25] John L. Newby, “The Fight for the Right to Fight and the Forgotten Negro Protest Movement: The History of Executive Order 9981 and its Effect Upon Brown v. Board of Education and Beyond,” Texas Journal on Civil Liberties and Civil Rights 10, no. 1 (2004): 84.
[26] Harry S. Truman, “Executive Order 9981, Establishing the President’s Committee on Equality of Treatment and Opportunity in the Armed Services,” July 27, 1948, National Archives Foundation, accessed November 19, 2019, https://www.archivesfoundation.org/documents/executive-order-9981-ending-segregation-armed-forces/.
After the banquet, Jordan decided to go with a white woman named Martha Coleman to eat dinner at her house in the city.[6] When Jordan returned to the Marriot Motor Inn, Coleman dropped him off at the side entrance of the hotel, because it was closer to his room.[7] While getting out of the car, Jordan collapsed to the ground; he had been shot in the back with a bullet from a .30-06 rifle.[8] According to Jordan, the bullet left a hole in his back that was the size of a man’s fist, later causing him to have 5 operations to remove the bullet fragments and close the wound.[9] At first the police and FBI had trouble determining the identity of the shooter was because Jordan was shot in the back at night.[10] A year after the shooting the police identified and arrested Joseph Paul Franklin.[11]
Before this assassination attempt, Franklin was known across the country as an outspoken and violent racist. In 1980 alone, Franklin was linked to eleven racial killings.[12] One of the most disturbing incidents was when he killed two black men who were jogging with two white women in Utah.[13] Franklin did not hide his racist attitudes. He associated himself with the American Nazi Party, the Klu Klux Klan, and was not afraid to tell people about his hatred of interracial relationships.[14] Despite Franklin being arrested for shooting Jordan, the state did not believe that there was enough evidence to charge him with attempted murder, so the cause went to a federal court to determine if Jordan’s civil rights were violated.[15] In August of 1982 Joseph Paul Franklin was tried in northern Indiana under Judge Allen Sharp. Franklin was acquitted of the accusations in the Vernon Jordan case by an all-white jury.[16] Despite being acquitted in this case, Franklin was already serving four life sentences for other crimes he had committed across the country.[17] While serving these sentences, Franklin reportedly admitted to an inmate that he had shot Jordan.[18] After the case, Franklin spent the rest of his life in a Missouri prison where he was awaiting his execution for murdering a man in St. Louis outside of a synagogue in 1977. Thirty-six years later, Franklin would be put to death by lethal injection on November 20, 2013.[19]
After this attack on his life, Vernon Jordan continued to fight for what he believed in. However, Jordan decided in December of 1980 to resign as the President of the National Urban League.[20] After leaving the Urban League, he joined a private law firm in Washington, D.C. dealing with “corporate and political affairs.” In 1992 Jordan advised Bill Clinton’s Presidential Campaign and lead his transition team, but opted to remain an unofficial advisor during Clinton’s presidency.[21] Since his time in the Clinton administration, Jordan has continued to work in politics while also becoming an influence in the financial realm while still fighting for civil rights in the United States.[22] He has faced many challenges throughout his career, even an attack on his life, but he still continues to fight for the equality of Americans in modern society.
]]>On May 29, 1980 in Fort Wayne, Indiana, the civil rights leader and National Urban League president Vernon Jordan was the guest speaker at the Equal Opportunity Dinner for the Fort Wayne chapter of the Urban League.[1] By all accounts, this appeared to be an ordinary day for Jordan.
Vernon Eulion Jordan Jr. was a born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1935 and did his undergraduate studies at DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana. He majored in political science and was intentional in choosing DePauw, which was a nearly all-white school at the time. Even at that young age Vernon Jordan wanted to challenge the established ways that things were done and pave the way for new opportunities for African American men and women. Upon graduating Depauw University as the only African American in a class of 400 students, Vernon Jordan studied at Howard University and graduated with a J.D. in 1960.[2] Since then, he had worked with Donald Hollowell fighting Jim Crow laws, the NAACP as a field secretary in Georgia, and as the director of the Southern Regional Council’s Voter Education Project.[3] Since 1971, Jordan had served as the president of the National Urban League.[4] In 1980 Jordan had been speaking across the country promoting the National Urban League and its significance to American society during the presidential election between Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan. His speaking engagement at the Equal Opportunity Dinner at the Fort Wayne Marriot Motor Inn was only one stop on his national tour.[5]
After the banquet, Jordan decided to go with a white woman named Martha Coleman to eat dinner at her house in the city.[6] When Jordan returned to the Marriot Motor Inn, Coleman dropped him off at the side entrance of the hotel, because it was closer to his room.[7] While getting out of the car, Jordan collapsed to the ground; he had been shot in the back with a bullet from a .30-06 rifle.[8] According to Jordan, the bullet left a hole in his back that was the size of a man’s fist, later causing him to have 5 operations to remove the bullet fragments and close the wound.[9] At first the police and FBI had trouble determining the identity of the shooter was because Jordan was shot in the back at night.[10] A year after the shooting the police identified and arrested Joseph Paul Franklin.[11]
Before this assassination attempt, Franklin was known across the country as an outspoken and violent racist. In 1980 alone, Franklin was linked to eleven racial killings.[12] One of the most disturbing incidents was when he killed two black men who were jogging with two white women in Utah.[13] Franklin did not hide his racist attitudes. He associated himself with the American Nazi Party, the Klu Klux Klan, and was not afraid to tell people about his hatred of interracial relationships.[14] Despite Franklin being arrested for shooting Jordan, the state did not believe that there was enough evidence to charge him with attempted murder, so the cause went to a federal court to determine if Jordan’s civil rights were violated.[15] In August of 1982 Joseph Paul Franklin was tried in northern Indiana under Judge Allen Sharp. Franklin was acquitted of the accusations in the Vernon Jordan case by an all-white jury.[16] Despite being acquitted in this case, Franklin was already serving four life sentences for other crimes he had committed across the country.[17] While serving these sentences, Franklin reportedly admitted to an inmate that he had shot Jordan.[18] After the case, Franklin spent the rest of his life in a Missouri prison where he was awaiting his execution for murdering a man in St. Louis outside of a synagogue in 1977. Thirty-six years later, Franklin would be put to death by lethal injection on November 20, 2013.[19]
After this attack on his life, Vernon Jordan continued to fight for what he believed in. However, Jordan decided in December of 1980 to resign as the President of the National Urban League.[20] After leaving the Urban League, he joined a private law firm in Washington, D.C. dealing with “corporate and political affairs.” In 1992 Jordan advised Bill Clinton’s Presidential Campaign and lead his transition team, but opted to remain an unofficial advisor during Clinton’s presidency.[21] Since his time in the Clinton administration, Jordan has continued to work in politics while also becoming an influence in the financial realm while still fighting for civil rights in the United States.[22] He has faced many challenges throughout his career, even an attack on his life, but he still continues to fight for the equality of Americans in modern society.
[1] Jo Thomas, “Racist who Killed 2 Indicted in Shooting of Vernon Jordan,” Archives, New York Times, June 3, 1982, https://www.nytimes.com/1982/06/03/us/racist-who-killed-2-indicted-in-shooting-of-vernon-jordan.html.
[2] “Vernon Jordan Jr.,” Biography, accessed April 2, 2019, https://www.biography.com/people/vernon-jordan-jr-9358120.
[3] “Vernon Jordan Jr.,” Biography, accessed March 16, 2019, https://www.biography.com/people/vernon-jordan-jr-9358120.
[4] Ibid.
[5]Vernon E. Jordan and Annette Gordon-Reed, Vernon can read!: a memoir (New York: Public Affairs, 2001), 280.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid, 281.
[8] Thomas, “Racist who Killed 2”.
[9] Jordan, and Gordon Reed, Vernon Can Read: a Memoir, 283.
[10] Linda G. Caleca, “A year later, few clues in Vernon Jordan shooting,” UPI, May 28, 1981, https://www.upi.com/Archives/1981/05/28/A-year-later-few-clues-in-Vernon-Jordan-shooting/7539359870400/.
[11] Jordan and Gordon-Reed, Vernon Can Read: a Memoir, 296.
[12] Linda G. Caleca, “Civil rights leader Vernon Jordan testified today he though…,” UPI, August 10, 1982. https://www.upi.com/Archives/1982/08/10/Civil-rights-leader-Vernon-Jordan-testified-today-he-thought/6415397800000/.
[13] Thomas, “Racist who Killed 2.”
[14] Ibid.
[15] Jordan and Gordon-Reed, Vernon Can Read: a Memoir, 296.
[16] “Federal Jury Returns Verdict of Not Guilty in Jordan Shooting,” Archives, New York Times, August 18, 1982. https://www.nytimes.com/1982/08/18/us/federal-jury-returns-verdict-of-not-guilty-in-jordan-shooting.html.
[17] Ibid.
[18] “Vernon Jordan Jr.,” Biography, accessed March 16, 2019, https://www.biography.com/people/vernon-jordan-jr-9358120.
[19] Lateef Mungin, “Serial killer Joseph Franklin executed after hours of delay,” CNN, November 21, 2013, https://www.cnn.com/2013/11/20/justice/missouri-franklin-execution/index.html.
[20] Caleca, “Civil rights leader Vernon Jordan testified.”
[21] “Vernon E. Jordan, Jr.” Encycylopaedia Britannica, accessed April 2, 2019, https://www.britannica.com/biography/Vernon-E-Jordan-Jr.
[22] “Vernon Jordan ’57 Returning to Depauw to Address Class of 2018 at May’s 179th Commencement,” Depauw University, November 24, 2017, https://www.depauw.edu/news-media/latest-news/details/33325/.
[1] Major Taylor, The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World; the Autobiography of Major Taylor.Abridged ed. Brattleboro, Vt: S. Greene Press, 1972, 1.
[2] National Museum of American History, “Marshall ‘Major’ Taylor: The incredible story of the first African-American world champion,” March 19, 2014, http://americanhistory.si.edu/blog/2014/03/marshall-major-taylor-the-incredible-story-of-the-first-african-american-world-champion.html
[3] Major Taylor, The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World; the Autobiography of Major Taylor.Abridged ed. Brattleboro, Vt: S. Greene Press, 1972, 1.
[4] National Museum of American History, “Marshall ‘Major’ Taylor: The incredible story of the first African-American world champion,” March 19, 2014, http://americanhistory.si.edu/blog/2014/03/marshall-major-taylor-the-incredible-story-of-the-first-african-american-world-champion.html
[5] Lynne Tolman, “Major Taylor Statue Dedication,” Traces 20, no. (Fall 2008): 37.
[6] Major Taylor, The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World; the Autobiography of Major Taylor.Abridged ed. Brattleboro, Vt: S. Greene Press, 1972, 4.
[7] Randal C. Archibold, “Major Taylor: A world champion bicycle racer whose fame was undermined by prejudice,” New York Times, accessed February 17, 2019, https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/obituaries/major-taylor-overlooked.html.
[8] Major Taylor, The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World; the Autobiography of Major Taylor.Abridged ed. Brattleboro, Vt: S. Greene Press, 1972, 7-49.
[9] Ibid, 111.
[10] Ibid, x.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Ibid, 206.
[13] “Major Taylor,” Biography, Last modified February 4, 2016, accessed March 11, 2019, https://www.biography.com/people/marshall-walter-major-taylor.
[14] National Museum of American History, “Marshall ‘Major’ Taylor.”
[15] Ibid.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Ibid.[18] “Inductees,” U.S. Bicycling Hall of Fame, accessed March 11, 2019, https://usbhof.org/inductees/
[18] Major Taylor, The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World; the Autobiography of Major Taylor.Abridged ed. Brattleboro, Vt: S. Greene Press, 1972.
[19] Indiana Historical Bureau, Marshall "Major" Taylor, https://www.in.gov/history/markers/MajorTaylor.htm.
PHOTO & VIDEO:
Major Taylor, 1906-1907, attributed to Jules Beau, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Major_Taylor,_1906-1907.jpg