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A BLACK PHYSICIAN'S STORY: BRINGING HOPE IN MISSISSIPPI. By Douglas L. Conner, MD with John F. Marszalek. University Press of Mississippi, 1985.

CHILDHOOD.

Born in Hattiesburg in 1920. Lived in all-black neighborhood between the Lumber Company and the railroad track, called Newman's Quarters, since these shotgun houses had been built by the Lumber Company which employed many blacks; most blacks just rented them, but the Conner family owned their home. Father was a fireman in the lumberyard, and mother was a custodian for city's telephone exchange. Conner's father worked twelve hours a day, six days a week. One maternal great-grandfather was Choctaw Indian, so Conner was part Indian. Page 2. Conner had two brothers and one sister. At home, the child Conner had the job of tending the garden, the hogs, and the chickens, cut grass for parents and neighbors, and helping wash clothes. Father was an alcoholic, parents were divorced when he was 12, and after mother remarried he moved in with an aunt and uncle.

Segregation. Doug Conner attended one of the three black elementary schools in Hattiesburg, a mile or two from his home. He walked to school, and walked by one of the white schools which was closer to his home. The white school was brick, while the black schools were old wooden buildings with a potbellied stove in each room; everything from the desks to books were hand-me-downs from a white school. Segregated Hattiesburg: "To be white meant being a part of the power structure; to be black meant being powerless. It meant discrimination at every turn, from inferior schools to no voting rights, to balconies in movie theatres and basement wards in the hospital. Being black meant a life of subordination, a life of limited goals and expectations."

Personal segregation effects. Don't remember many: "I remember white children often waiting for us to taunt us and to engage us in fights. The harassment was even more bitter because of having to pass the white school to get to our black one. I also remember walking in other white areas in town and hearing yells of 'Nigger this' and 'Nigger that.' I remember having to sit in the balcony at the movies...Day after day I lived with segregation. It was part of my community; it was a part of my life." As a boy of 9, he could remember walking on a sidewalk with his mother after it had rained, and her pulling him off the sidewalk into the unpaved street's mud so that a white kid of the same age could pass. Page 13. His mother's attitude was resigned, saying, "You're in a white world, and there are certain things you cannot do. You have to be humble." Doug Conner refused to believe that he was inferior to whites. Most blacks worked at menial jobs in the lumberyard or other town businesses. "The height of black ambition at that time was to become a teacher or a minister." Conner's role model was the only black doctor in town, Dr. Charles Smith, whom he didn't know but whose house he passed. "I would see his fine home, his finely manicured lawn, and I would say to myself, 'My goodness, that's the way to live.' I saw a black man who seemed to have gained material success, and I dreamed it might be possible for me too." Page 15. Conner wanted to become a doctor to help people, and he remembered the death of a pregnant young girl who lacked proper medical care. Instead of dropping out of school, the generosity of his aunt and uncle, and his own working after school helped him graduate; his teachers were very supportive, and he read a lot. Page 17.

THE ALCORN YEARS.

Doug Conner attended the black state school in Mississippi, Alcorn A and M.; private black schools Tougaloo and Rust were too expensive for him, and he attended Alcorn instead of Jackson College because Alcorn gave a $50 scholarship to salutatorians. He never thought of going to USM because "segregation was so severe in Hattiesburg that no black person thought about any relationship with the school except in some menial capacity." Page 21. "One advantage of living in an all-black society cut off from most connections with the dominant white world was our temporary opportunity to avoid the blight of segregation. There were no whites around to remind us to watch our racial P's and Q's. We could be relaxed since we did not have to worry about violating racial mores and getting into trouble." A negative was they grew too content with the situation, and had no acute sensitivity to the issue of segregation. Alcorn students came to view themselves as future leaders of the black community within the context of a segregated society; "we never talked about voting." Page 28.

During World War 2, students knew that Hitler was racist because he had snubbed Jesse Owens during the 1936 Olympics. "It never dawned on us that there was a real irony in the fact that the United States was trying to eradicate Nazi racism with a military formed along racist principles." Page 29.

Traditionally black institutions. "There was something special about being part of an all-black world--a world populated and controlled by blacks. I saw blacks in positions of authority and respect; I held positions of the same kind. It was something I had rarely seen in the outside world. There, most of the blacks around me held menial jobs, were given little if any respect, and had almost no hope for future improvement. At Alcorn, there was hope because we saw clearly that, despite white insistence, blacks were capable of learning, of leadership, of respect. The whole atmosphere was positive, and I was part of it. It felt wonderful. We lacked the equipment and the faculty prestige of white institutions, but that was not the crucial fact. We had pride in ourselves and what we were doing. We recognized concretely the myth of white-imposed black inferiority. We believed that once we graduated we would help destroy that myth." Page 33. An important role model at Alcorn was the college physician, Dr. Luther Smith, who increased Conner's determination to be a doctor some day due to his quiet expertise.

Today, I would be tempted to go to one of the three largest universities, but I wouldn't. "These universities have much better facilities, more prestigious faculties, and greater reputations than the predominantly black schools in Mississippi because they have consistently received larger shares of state funds... My own son was the first black student at MSU... I wonder whether they are experiencing the sense of racial togetherness that I gained at Alcorn. I wonder whether they are not receiving irrevocable insults to their self-esteem. I believe that black college graduates must have a strong sense of obligation to the uplift of the black masses. If black students attend white schools and lose their sense of concern for other blacks, they have lost a golden opportunity...Even more disturbing is the black graduate of the white school who gains an education and in the process develops a superior attitude toward less-privileged blacks. I have seen too many instances of such people taking the attitude: 'If you work as hard as I have, you'll make it up here too.' Any blacks who believe they have made it on their own are sadly mistaken. Without the selfless sacrifice of so many before them, today's black students would still be suffering under the same segregation that was for so long a way of life in Mississippi. They would not be sitting in classrooms at the state's predominantly white institutions... Even worse than these individuals are those black graduates of white institutions who have developed a repugnance for less-privileged blacks. Instead of trying to work together to uplift the masses, they take the attitude: 'Those trifling people, they ought to be ashamed of themselves for being poor and uneducated and downtrodden.' Unfortunately I have seen a great many black graduates take on this attitude, and I believe this is the result of their never developing any group cohesiveness, any togetherness, during their college days. They have become 'Oreo cookie' types: they are black on the outside, but their insides are white. They have learned much technical information at the white universities, but they have also learned to separate themselves from their black brothers and sisters. What a waste of human potential." Pages 33-34.

One summer Doug Conner worked on a tobacco farm in Connecticut. The Alcorn students worked side by side with white Polish workers, who "did not seem to have a prejudiced bone in their bodies... treated us as they treated each other...white people who dealt with me in a person-to-person manner rather than in a master-to-slave manner. It was an eye-opening experience to see that whites did not necessarily have to be prejudicial in their treatment of blacks." They experienced no discrimination in Hartfort, either. Most important lesson: "whites who treated me on terms of equality... lesson they taught me about human relations." Pages 36-37. Conner also worked in Detroit in a car-assemly plant earning money for one of two black medical schools--Meharry College in Nashville or Howard University in DC. Whites and blacks were friendly in the auto plant, and one white foreman even told Conner to slow down and not work so fast. Important because it showed "blacks and whites working together on a more or less equal footing...black-white relations were not as ironclad as everyone in Mississippi thought and said they were." But there was hypocrisy and discrimination of a subtle kind, as white workers who met black coworkers outside of the factory ignored them. Segregated neighborhoods existed, and the races seldom met. Blacks were "more carefree and less fearful than southern blacks," but there was a Detroit riot in 1943. Page 41.

ARMY LIFE.

Doug Conner was drafted in 1944, right after graduation. Segregation was clear, as the medics and doctors giving the draftees their shots were white, and all draftees were black. At Camp Barclay in Texas, whites and blacks were trained separately. At the nearby town, whites went to the white areas and blacks to the black areas. Sometimes white MPs caused problems. "Many were Simon Legrees, similar to police officers I had seen all too often in the South. Some of them swung their billy clubs too quickly, and every once in a while a black skull suffered the consequences." There were a handful of black MPs, but no black officers or commanders. "most of them were pretty decent people," and regarding segregation "I got the feeling that they did not like the idea." Page 44.

Conner was selected for a surgical technician training school at Walter Reed Army Hospital in DC. Living quarters were segregated, but classes and wards were not. Eight of 100 students were black, and several blacks were instructors. None of the white students or patients mentioned their race or objected to them. Conner feared about being able to compete with whites, but found he was in the middle of his class. Though off-duty periods were segregated, the medical work itself was "an integrated environment I had never dared think was possible. All those around me treated me with respect." Washington D.C. was a segregated southern town, and off-duty Conner would go to the black district and see a movie. In the war, blacks were put into service units (quartermaster, engineer, port) "doing the hard, dirty work of war for the more glamorous and prestigious white combat units." Conner was put on a segregated troop train and then a segregated ship to the Pacific. At Okinawa Conner worked with a "fine, considerate white Jewish doctor" who encouraged him and urged him to immediately apply for medical school. News of Red Cross discrimination and segregated blood. Regarding atom bomb, "we wondered if it would have been dropped on the Japanese had they been a white nation like Germany or Italy." Page 54. Okinawans were of mixed Chinese-Japanese ancestry, and they liked blacks more than whites because they had never seen a black person and white Americans treated them with a condescending posture of tolerance. Army gave important lessons of discipline, proper channels to get things done, patience to accept limitations on our power to control our lives, hope and pride at being able to compete successfully in an integrated situation.

LEARNING MEDICINE.

In summer 1946 Conner worked in South Chicago at a steel mill at hard physical labor to make money. His wife, Nita, worked in a sales job at a clothing store. The first year that Conner was at Howard University Medical School, Nita taught in the Oktibbeha County Training School. His VA benefits and a Mississippi scholarship that would cancel one-fifth of his scholarship loan for every year he practiced in Mississippi. "I was impressed to see so many PhD and MDs, almost all of whom were black; there were only a few white doctors on the faculty." Most of the 100 freshmen were black, but there were 4 whites, 5 Chinese, 5 students from the Caribbean, and several from Africa.

In Conner's last two years were spent practicing in Freedmen's Hospital, which lacked modern equipment, had a black clientele mostly from the lowest SES class who couldn't pay for their care. In Washington by this time, segregated neighborhoods remained, but theaters were usually not segregated though the races clustered in different areas. His wife sold ice cream and milk at a store, and she rarely encountered prejudice because the clientele was primarily upper middle class.

Conner admired both Roosevelt and Truman. Truman finally integrated the armed forces. When Mississippi joined the Dixiecrats, Conner knew that little had changed there.

Only the top 10% of class were invited to intern at a white hospital, so Conner interned for one year at Homer G. Phillips Hospital in St. Louis, the black hospital in the city, primarily because he wanted to go South. "I never considered any Mississippi hospitals because I knew it would be fruitless to apply." Page 67. "the entire staff was black... though the staff was generally good, the facilities were not even as good as mediocre... The patient load was staggering" which ended up being good experience for a general practitioner like Conners wanted to become. Compared to Washington D.C., St. Louis had a "stricter drawing of racial lines; there were stricter all-white and all-black communities. It was like the South of my youth, where the white and the black world rarely touched." Conner wanted to go back to Mississippi and not live in a big city, and fulfill his dream of "being a physician in a black community, healing hurts and making life better for a suffering people." Page 71.

STARKVILLE PHYSICIAN AND MEDICAL REFLECTIONS.

Uncle Rob on his wife's side was a black barber in Starkville and a leader of the black community; they had dreamed of having a black physician. The black committee checked with the white community, and it was favorable to him; white doctors promised him hospital privileges. When Conner visited Starkville in 1951 the mayor, businessmen, and citizens all welcomed him. However, "I noticed how careful black leaders were to gain the prior approval of whites for everything they did...although all the white leaders I met were pleasant, there was an undercurrent of paternalism in their attitude toward me and the black sponsors who were introducing me." Page 74. He liked the four white physicians who made up the Starkville medical profession.

The committee had arranged for Conner to have hospital privileges at one of the two hospitals, but that hospital was "even more poorly equipped" than the two black hospitals Conner had already worked at. The segregated hospital had separate waiting rooms, and segregated wings; the white wings had semiprivate rooms with baths while the black side had rooms with three or four beds and no private baths. Both sides had black and white nurses aides, and operating room, delivery room, and emergency rooms were used by both races. The white doctors welcomed him, and most of the nurses didn't care about his race. The only blacks were nurses aides, janitors, and kitchen help, who were proud and protective of Conner; they didn't warn him about any individual or about any racial etiquette, but they just said to go slow, take it easy, and be careful.

Conner established his office in a building built by a black leader, and the black committee paid the first six months of his rent. He advertised in the paper as the town's new "colored physician." Business was slow at first, and he found that "Blacks do not automatically support someone because he or she is black. In fact, blacks will often support a white person simply because he or she is white... especially among the middle class, there is an attitude that if something is done by a white person it is done better... carry-overs from the days of slavery and later discrimination. Blacks have long been told that white is superior and black is inferior... if blacks do not support black professionals and black businessmen, nobody will. Without black support, blacks as a group will never develop a base for black progress." He got his strongest support from rural blacks, who had been going to black doctors in West Point or Columbus; Starkville blacks had gone to white doctors in town. Pages 78-79.

At first he had "nothing but black patients, many of whom paid with farm goods. Then I began getting a few white patients--men suffering from venereal disease who came to see me so that the white doctors would not know of their affliction." Today, though 95% remain black, there is a greater mix of social classes and city as well as county residents, though most whites are lower SES and have a variety of ailments. Some were concerned about his young age of 31, but a white doctor, Hunter Scales, praised Conner's work to his black patients and helped him build up a practice; Dr. Scales had a common signin sheet and treated patients in the order in which they had signed in; if whites didn't like it, he'd tell them to "get the hell out of here". In his early years, Conner worked from 7:30 AM with hospital rounds until 10:30 PM on six days of the week, with 2 hours off for meals. Page 80. In the late 1970s he spent every Saturday in a trailer clinic in established by several Macon black leaders, and in 1982-84 he spent two Saturdays a month in Shuqualak. When Conner was on call at the hospital, there always had to be a back-up white physician since "some" white patients refused to be served by a black doctor; he never faces that problem today, since the county hospital doesn't let patients refuse service from a physician on call unless they have their own doctor. In recent years, Conner had an agreement with two white doctors regarding reciprocity when going out of town; he would treat the absent doctor's black patients, and the white doctor would treat his white patients. Conner then moved from this second floor office to a cafe owned by a black farmer that he then remodeled. Page 83.

Conner regrets not having enough time to spend with his family, but he has been an important role model to black children; all three of his children are medical practitioners. He encouraged black kids interested in medicine by giving them odd jobs in his office. He is moved by down-and-out youngsters because they remind him of himself. "I reach out to such a person and try to motivate him. I tell him that he is capable of better, that he has to break the crutch of using blackness as an excuse for standing still, doing nothing, and depending on charity." He remembers the "tremendous influence" that Hattiesburg's Dr. Smith had on him. Page 86.

Medical Associations. In the old days, the Mississippi Medical Association barred blacks from membership, which also kept blacks out of the AMA. Hence, the black Mississippi Medical and Surgical Association, affiliated with the black National Medical Association were formed. This organization remains today despite integration, because of fear that pure integration would cause blacks to be "shunted aside;" also, this group permits discussion of issues of "special concern to the black community--for example, the need for more black physicians." Page 91. Conner dislikes the AMA's "anti-public attitude," whose PAC is more concerned with advancing the "well-being of doctors rather than concentrating on improving health care for the public at large." Page 92.

National health care. Conner and the NMA supported LBJ's Medicare and Medicaid programs, because poor people were "being denied medical care because of their inability to afford it." But Conner feels that they have been "instrumental in causing the skyrocketing rise in medical costs." Some hospitals, physicians, and patients have abused these federal programs, and there should be a crack-down. Conner proposed a "partnership between government, private industry, and patient, each paying a fair share of the patient's medical expenses;" patient fee would be based on ability to pay, but paying anything would give a person a sense of personal responsibility for his or her own care. Poor and rich should be treated in same facility, or the poor facility soon becomes overcrowded and a training ground for new physicians who then move on. Page 94.

Human relations. Doctors need to improve their understanding of patients as people, since three-fourths of patient visits have some psychosomatic basis. Instead of an overemphasis on science, doctors need "a better grounding in liberal arts education," such as sociology, history, and philosophy; anyone treating blacks should study Afro-American history and culture.

Medical Issues. Abortion is okay in the first twelve weeks of pregnancy, since there is no viability then. Oppose it after twelve weeks, since a human life is present then. Given widespread birth control information, no excuse for pregnancies "time after time after time. I do not believe in abortion on demand." Totally opposed to smoking and second-hand smoke, and gave up himself after smoking from 1939 to 1964. Overweight is a major problem, but obese people shouldn't be ridiculed which hurts self-esteem. Social drinking of 1-2 drinks a day is okay, but more than that is asking for trouble; education is needed, not prohibition. He opposes marijuana legalization, but thinks someone should get mandatory counseling instead of jail for smoking it; lack of scientific data on effects. Drug culture is a major problem, and we take too many over-the-counter and prescription drugs. "As long as Americans rush through life, the temptation to use drugs to tranquilize or to energize will continue to be a problem." Page 100. Hectic pace of modern life leads people to fail to do the basic things vital for a long, healthy life: eat regular meals, sleep regularly, don't eat too much, get enough exercise, and don't worry too much. Page 101.

STATE AND NATIONAL POLITICS.

Starkville in 1950s and early 1960s was thoroughly segregated; separate but equal didn't exist, and blacks were usually excluded. Separate schools existed, with the white facilities far superior to the black ones. Most blacks had to take whatever menial jobs existed. "One could see blacks sweeping and mopping, but rarely was a black seen in a business suit. There were no black bank tellers, no black government clerks, and certainly no black college professors." White restaurants were closed to blacks except perhaps for the back door. The few black restaurants were nothing more than sandwich shops. Blacks at the one movie theatre had to sit in the balcony, the so-called "buzzard's roost." There were no black salespersons at stores. Blacks were discouraged from trying anything on at clothing stores. Most dental offices had segregated waiting rooms, and one dentist did extractions in the black waiting room by using a washbasin. A few black businessmen were permitted to vote, but they had to vote early so that few whites saw them at the polls. Page 102-103.

In Starkville there wasn't a literacy or understanding test, but the poll tax and "a clear understanding that blacks were not supposed to vote--kept most blacks from even trying to register... The police had a reputation for arresting blacks with little cause and then treating them roughly, so most blacks did not want to do anything that might antagonize the authorities." The neighboring college provided "no leadership" in the area of race relations, and "observed the segregation customs like everyone else... Generally, the only black presence on campus was in some sort of menial role. A few blacks attended the college's athletic events, but they had to stand behind the goalposts during the football games or around the edges of the court during basketball games." Page 104.

In the late 1950s Medgar Evers visited Starkville, got Conner to become a life member of the NAACP for $50, and urged him to establish a Starkville chapter; Conner talked with other Starkville blacks about forming a local NAACP chapter, but they had no success until the late 1960s. In 1967 Conner and other local blacks requested federal registrars, who registered blacks at the Post Office since many were afraid to go to the courthouse. Page 106.

Freedom Democratic Party of mid-60s wanted an all-black party, but Aaron Henry's Loyalist Democrats wanted an integrated one. Conner from 1969 to 1984 became a member of the Loyalist Executive Committee (Democratic party after 1976 merger), as well as party Treasurer. They conducted caucuses to select national convention delegates, and ran primary elections, and fought with regular Democrats. Great money problems, rising Republican party, so Democrats merged in 1976 with a dual, biracial chairs of Henry and Tom Ridell. Governor Winter in 1980 ended dual chairs, but Conner feared it would mean blacks shunted aside; he remained on Executive Committee, chaired 2nd Congressional District, and became Election Committee chair certifying candidates and election results. As elections chair, succeeded in law providing direct presidential candidate votes instead of elector votes, but failed to get Saturday elections and state income tax deductions for political contributions. As 2nd district chair, he opposed idea of a black independent party. Conner attended the 1972-1980 conventions, but couldn't be a delegate in 1984 because of party rules mandating equal race-sex divisions. Absence of funding to attend conventions hurt representativeness; 1984 cost was $1,500. Conner supported McGovern and was pledged to Carter twice, but in his heart he preferred Kennedy. Page 116.

Jesse Jackson candidacy was positive in that it instilled "a sense of pride in many younger blacks, convincing them that some day there would be a black president." Conner supported Mondale as more electable candidate, but Reagan was unbeatable in 1984. Conner disliked Reagan as hurting the poor; he seemed "determined to cut back or eliminate all federal social programs." Page 117. Fortunately, Democrats have become more careful about spending money, ensuring that programs really deliver what they promise and that they help poor lift themselves up by their own bootstraps. Partisan differences--"Democrats want to give opportunity to the disadvantaged," while "Republicans remain more interested in pleasing Wall Street than in taking care of those in need." Democrats need to reform programs to give incentive to people to become economically independent, and that move people from dependence to independence. On racial issues, thrust of national Democrats is "definitely positive," while Republican state and national policy "seems to be antiblack despite the presence of some fair-minded party members." Conner voted for Gil Carmichael, a "good man, a decent man, without any obvious signs of racial prejudice," who he thought would move state Republicans in a more racially liberal direction; but Republican party at national and state levels has become more conservative. Page 119.

In 1970 Conner was appointed as one of the 16 (10 whites, 6 blacks) members of the Mississippi State Advisory Committee to the Cabinet Committee on Education, to ensure peaceful integration of public schools. It just listed to reports and a speech by Nixon, but had no input and was just a showcase. Regrettably, committee failed to prevent the "proliferation of academies at the expense of the public school systems." He also met with Carter, who spoke of his success in appointing blacks. Important step forward of just being a black invited to the White House and honored by two Presidents. Page 124.

State governors. Winter- "enlightened individual" to "racial demagogues" like Ross Barnett and John Bell Williams. Congressmen have "not been in the forefront of the battle for freedom... Eastland and Stennis were leaders in opposition to civil rights legislation... Eastland never changed..." Stennis on the other hand, voted for 1982 Voting Rights Act extension, showing growing importance of black vote. Conner supported Stennis in 1982, since a conservative Democrat at least would not rubber-stamp Reagan's programs, and the national party was "fair to me and to black people generally." Conner was disturbed by Winter's support for a black chair of party, and "lack of true white support" for Robert Clark's 1982 U.S. House bid. Conner was pleased at how "all the state's leading Democrats, with the exception of Stennis, endorsed Clark and tried to aid him in any way they could," in his 1984 race. Page 126.

LOCAL POLITICS.

In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Conner had to sue in US. District Court in order to be permitted to see the voter registration books, which Oktibbeha County circuit clerk refused to make public. Court decree in 1971 made them available to public. Conner found that 28% of registered voters by them were black, compared to 30% of voting age population. Much had been accomplished since the 1965 Voting Rights Act. Problem of black candidate needing all of black vote and a significant number of whites to win.

Conner ran for and lost 3 races--1971 state senate as Independent, 1973 Starkville Board of Alderman, and 1975 state legislature. Main contribution was to "raise black consciousness... to show that blacks could and should run for political office.. paved the way for the winning black candidates who have followed me." Page 129. Friends, relatives, and local NAACP colleagues helped him; NAACP and local churches helped in voter registration drives; dinners and fish fries at local churches helped raise slight funds. Conner sought white support, promised to be impartial racially and not exclude whites. His platform stressed improved education and other domestic programs, jobs, highways, a higher income state, and a state model where "people of different ethnic backgrounds can work together in harmony and peace." Page 131. A black candidate could not win in Oktibbeha unless he had a black majority district, such as Tyrone Ellis'. A few blacks voted against Conner feeling that a black couldn't win, or that they would lose their black doctor, or because white plantation owners threatened to fire them.

Other political activities. In 1978 Conner opposed a county bond issue to build a jail in the Industrial Park, "because my concern over harsh police treatment of black prisoners convinced me that a jail in an isolated area would only make this circumstance worse." Conner was asked by federal officials in 1980 when federal election monitors should be sent to several local counties, but he told them they weren't needed since blacks were not kept from the polls after 1972. Page 135. Today Conner serves on all-black (Second Baptist Church, black American Legion post, and a black Masonic order) as well as biracial MSU and community groups. He is one of the few black members of the Chamber of Commerce, which many blacks see as "representative only of the white power structure;" it doesn't discrimination, but it makes no "special efforts to recruit black members." Page 138.

"Mississippi has come a long way since the days of my youth. It is hardly a racial paradise, but it is certainly not the kind of place I remember as a child in Hattiesburg during the 1920s and 1930s--or even the kind of place I recall as a beginning physician in Starkville in the 1950s. Today, blacks are an integral part of the state, and we are treated with a respect unheard of before. As a child I heard my elders bemoan their political exclusion. They would not even think of voting, running for office, or holding positions in the state party. I have done all of these things. We have come a long way, despite the distance we have yet to travel." Page 141.

HUMAN RIGHTS--THE SCHOOLS

"The university saw the first dramatic integration breakthrough in the Starkville area." In 1963 the MSU Basketball team won the Southeast Conference title and gained an automatic bid to the NCAA championship tournament. There was an unwritten law that Mississippi athletic teams did not play opponents who had any black players, and their first opponent was Loyola University of Chicago, whose starting team was predominantly black. MSU President Colvard ensured that the team played, so the game was "the destruction of a major color barrier." Page 143.

Conner adopted Richard Holmes, the son of a dying cancer patient. Richard attended a small black school in Texas, Wiley College. But when he returned home for summer, he decided to save money by taking a couple of nonscience courses at MSU in 1965. Since he would be the first black at MSU, MSU administrators held many meetings. They were determined that MSU "not experience the same turmoil and bloodshed that Ole Miss had," and also feared losing considerable federal funds if they tolerated anti-integration violence. The school had arranged a "heavy police presence," and the county sheriff had promised cooperation; MSU "had worked hard to ensure him a peaceful welcome."

"He told me he had encountered no difficulties. Practically no one paid any attention to him... He received some stares... A few students he knew spoke to him as he passed by... He was not there for any fanfare or publicity... State was near his home and was highly rated... The first black student had peacefully registered at MSU." Only problem was that that night a crowd of about two hundred students joined by some nonstudents gathered on campus and marched to Conner's home, "shouting racial insults" but doing no property damage. They were gone when the police arrived, and "that was the only problem my family or I ever had. After that, there were no further marches." Page 146.

Richard had no academic problem, but "he did experience the tactic of silent rejection. He was simply ignored. A few students were outwardly hostile, but even fewer made any effort to be friendly. It was apparently not socially acceptable to welcome the school's first black student." To encourage other blacks to attend, Conner urged him to transfer permanently to MSU. In the fall, Richard "felt more animosity... no physical violence, but the catcalls and insults increased... the insults were usually hurled from a distance. He continued to be isolated. When he sat down at a library table, everyone else left. When he entered a TV lounge, it quickly emptied... these things were minor... most people bent over backwards to make his stay as pleasant as possible" since they didn't want an Ole Miss episode. Richard then got a Master's degree at MSU, and has become an emergency room physician in Alabama. Page 147.

In Starkville, blacks remained "subordinated to the dominant white society... the threat of loss of employment was often enough to silence any would-be critic... schoolteachers were asked whether they belonged to the NAACP and threatened with firing if they did." Nevertheless, in 1969 a local chapter of NAACP was organized, and the segregated school system was targeted. In 1965-68 the Starkville school district adopted a freedom of choice plan, but whites didn't ask to attend black schools and "most black students were too frightened or intimidated to try to attend the all-white schools. In 1968 the federal government cut off funds to the school district, as only 80 of the 1600 black students attended white schools and no whites attended black schools. In a federal district case filed by Conner, the school board proposed integration by closing the black schools (which whites didn't want to attend), establishing teacher retention standards that blacks feared would reduce black professionals in a unitary system, and continuing city admission of some 400 county students. The judge kept all schools open in ensuring integrated grades assigned to different schools. A biracial committee continued with the white leadership provided by MSU professors who feared that the rise of a private academy would destroy the public schools; a petition of one thousand people spearheaded by whites supporting the public schools was published in the newspaper. Finally, by 1970 the dual system was eliminated. Page 153.

Some effects: "a cutback in black principals and teachers... Blacks lost their representation in the teaching and administrative staffs by attrition." Conner's own wife quit after teaching two months in the integrated city system, after the white principal told her that a white student shouldn't receive a low grade because he had important parents; she began teaching in the county school system. At first, blacks students were treated fairly and there was no segregation within the schools. In the mid-1980s the NAACP went to court to attack tracking: "the use of achievement tests resegregated children according to standardized score groupings. All-black and all-white classes began to appear." Page 155.

Some whites worked hard for integration; others were ambivalent at best and made the federal government the scapegoat. Others refused to accept the inevitable and "Rather than send their children to integrated schools, they banded together to form the local academy." Stockholders of the Citizens Realty donated ten acres, and the three major banks donated money. Justifications for the academy were: it allowed peaceful integration and took all the confirmed segregationists out of the public school system; it helps county people, where schools are inferior; it doesn't threaten the city's good public school system; it "fulfills a need for the class conscious--that it is snobbishness, not race that explains its existence." In Conner's opinion, "blatant racism was the reason for the establishment of the academy in Starkville. The argument at the time was not very suble; 'The schools will be mixing now. Pretty soon black boys will be chasing after and marrying white girls.'... there were numerous parents who left their boys in public schools and sent their girls to the academy... snobbishness plays a role in explaining the existence of the academy... But I am convinced that race is the major reason. Without the coming of integration, there would not have been nor would there be an academy in Starkville today." Conner sees the academy as a "real sore spot" and "threat to public education." It is a reminder that "there is much more to do before the races are truly brought together." Fortunately, the city's public schools are "thoroughly integrated" and the "vast majority of whites and blacks in the community support them." "The city's academy has a limited clientele and a limited influence, but I find its very existence repugnant to all I believe in and hope for. Blacks as a whole are disappointed that it exists." Page 156.

HUMAN RIGHTS--ECONOMIC ISSUES

By 1970 segregation persisted: "on all Main Street there was only one black salesperson... Blacks worked downtown as janitors, cleaning ladies, and in other menial capacities." Conner organized a black caucus to address issue, but white businesses initially said they "already had a black janitor or that they did not need any more black cleanup help," and claimed that black salespersons would cause them to lose their white customers. The mayor said he could do nothing, and didn't even promise appointed positions. Conner's drew up a selective list of white stores that would be boycotted until they hired blacks; the few black-owned stores were omitted, as were many white stores since blacks couldn't afford to go to another town. Boycott was announced in local churches, ten pickets marched up and down Main Street each day, and an afternoon protest meeting explaining boycott's purpose to blacks was held daily. "Few whites actually participated... there was also no organized white opposition... whites simply tried to discourage us." No newspaper coverage. "There was no direct violence, but picketers, especially the younger ones, were often hassled by passersby and became involved in scuffles with them and with the police."

Biggest conflicts involved the marches. As they became more successful, "the police began to warn us that they would stop issuing us permits, but they always relented at the last minute." In June 1970 the city passed an ordinance required police chief permission of march plans. On June 4 he tried to prevent a march, and then arrested marchers for "obstructing public streets or sidewalks." Marchers weren't jailed, but had to appear in court. On June 9 marchers were arrested for not having a permit, and jailed in the county jail downtown; most marchers were bused to a storage building at the then black athletic field due to the small jail. Marchers adopted Martin Luther King philosophy of non-violence. Police tried to discredit Conner by letting him leave jail without charges, but he and his daughter refused to leave while the other marchers were jailed. They refused to pay the $100 cash bond or $500 property bail bond on principle and poverty. In July a federal district judge said that peaceful marches could take place in Starkville subject to various guidelines, such as notifying police one hour ahead of time; but city or police could not deny permission to march or picket on public property, or require a permit tax. Page 166.

As Christmas arrived black support for the boycott waned, as many blacks wanted to buy things in the white stores. White merchants were being hurt by the boycott, and finally suggested that if the boycott ended they would begin to hire blacks, but would not do so under pressure. When the boycott ended, "black faces began to appear in Main Street stores," but "some of those hired were individuals who had not participated in the boycott or had actually broken it by sneaking into stores when the pickets had not been looking." Many black businessmen with majority white customers "did nothing to try to curtail the boycott, although they did a lot of talking in opposition to it." Many blacks feared "a flare-up of racial violence," especially black parents who "worried that their children might be mistreated in school." Also, "black businessmen had a lot of lose from integration." Page 168-169.

Conner especially admires Aaron Henry, whose "house was firebombed" in the worst days of the movement, but whose activities hindered his pharmacist income. Human rights figures who gave their life for the cause included Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, and three civil rights leaders in Neshoba county. Conner admired Kennedy's pledge for civil rights, and Johnson who "did more than any other for civil rights." "The worst president for blacks was Richard Nixon, followed closely by Ronald Reagan... attempt to turn back from civil rights gains. Attitudes like holding the life, not going too fast too soon, give permission for Americans to oppose further racial progress." Blacks need to hear tht "he is important," and that at least "I am somebody." "More blacks have to be willing to speak out and take action against any situation or individual that tries to tell blacks, 'You are nobody.'" "We have made progress over the past several years," but the battle isn't over. "Much more" needs to be done in Starkville, Mississippi, and the nation. Page 172. It is wrong for blacks to hate whites, since some whites helped promote racial integration, and "Hate does nothing but create more hate." The world needs "more blacks and whites working together for our common good." Page 175.