[Lightly edited for flow and clarity.]
Laura Anderson:
I want to say up front is that I'm Laura Anderson, and today is Tuesday, June 3rd, 2014, and I am here with the famous Annie Pearl Avery at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute. And, we want to thank you for taking the time to come here and tell some stories.So, you were born here in Birmingham?
Annie Avery:
Yes, I was born in [inaudible 00:01:19] here in Birmingham. I always like to, kind of, start my story off telling about when I was real young; I think about nine or ten years old. And, I had an aunt in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania that — her husband had passed, and she wanted someone to come stay with her. So, I — My mother had four of us. My mother decided to share me. And, I stayed in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania for a while, there. And then, I was back in Birmingham at [age] 14.But, on the way up to Pittsburgh, something happened, and it really didn't resonate until about three years ago, what my aunt meant when we got to Cincinnati — that's what they call the Mason—Dixon line.
And, we were the only people on the bus — We were the first ones to get on the bus, and she say, "You can sit anywhere you want. So, I took off and found me a seat on the back of the bus. And, I finally realized that she wasn't telling me to just choose a seat. She was telling me I could sit anywhere I want.
But now, you remember now, I'm a little girl, and I know about all this — not really know — I'm accustomed to going to the back of the bus. But, there was no sign, or anything; but I still went to the back of the bus, because I had been conditioned to go to the back of the bus. I realize now, I had been conditioned to go to the back of the bus.
Laura Anderson:
Mm-hmm (affirmative).
Annie Avery:
But anyway, I'm back in Birmingham at 14, and Reverend Shuttlesworth was here trying to — he, and Reverend Billups, and Reverend Oliver, and Reverend Phifer — all of these people. They were trying to integrate Phillips High School with their children.I didn't get the opportunity to really meet them until later on, when the Freedom Riders came. And, I said if the Freedom Riders came, I was going to go with them, because they were young people. They said young people were leading the sit-ins and the Freedom Ride. So, I said I wanted to go — if they come to Birmingham, I'm going with them. So, when they —
Laura Anderson:
And, how old were you?
Annie Avery:
16 going on 17. And, when they said they were coming to Birmingham, I went down to the Greyhound bus station and bought me a ticket to go to Montgomery with them. That's as far as I could afford to go. So, I was going to go to Montgomery with them.And, we get to — I was really ecstatic. I was excited, really excited. And, they get to Anniston, Alabama, and the bus is blown up in Anniston. And, the people are beaten. And, when they got to Birmingham, they were being beaten at the Trailway bus station, but I had a ticket for the Greyhound bus station.
And, a young lady — my neighbor — was one of my neighbors — she and I decided to walk down together, and she told me, she said, "Reverend Abernathy's my uncle." Her name is Candace Grimes. Said, "Reverend Abernathy's my uncle." But, he wasn't that important at the time. You know, he wasn't that famous. She was just telling me somebody that was a relative of hers was involved.
And, we get down to the bus station, and they had it roped off, police line-like. The yellow tape. So, we couldn't go across — we would just muddle around. So, finally, she got bored and left. And, by happenstance, I met a young man by the name of Wilson Brown. And, Wilson Brown was sent down there by Reverend Shuttlesworth to welcome the Freedom Riders to Birmingham. And, he was the very first direct contact I made with anyone that was in the Civil Rights movement, to know it.
And, I told him I wanted to go, and I had my own ticket. I told him I wanted to go, but at the same time, when I bought this ticket, I also bought me a knife. I was going to protect myself on the bus. And, Wilson said, "Well, you can't go because you don't understand the concept of nonviolence." Well, I had looked in the dictionary for it, but the word was not in the dictionary at the time. So, I asked him to explain it. He said, "Well, that's when somebody hits you, you can't hit them back." I said, "I don't think I want to do that." So, I got a refund for my ticket.
And, a couple of weeks later, at the A.G. Gaston Lounge, Wilson walks in and walk over to me, and he said, "How would you like to go to a Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee [SNCC] meeting in Atlanta? And, I thought about it. I said, "Well, I want to learn more about the Civil Rights movement, and I'm going to get the opportunity to go to Atlanta. I've never been to Atlanta before. And then, I'm going to go free." So, I left my knife at home.
Laura Anderson:
Good.
Annie Avery:
And, everything is history after that. I detoured from the nonviolent workshops, though.
Laura Anderson:
Tell me, what do you think led you in that direction? What attracted you to what was going on?
Annie Avery:
I don't know. It could have been living in Pittsburgh for so long, and being away from this. You know, it's a funny thing, that once a slave's been free, they don't want to be slaves anymore. And, it was different in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. That might have been it. To come back into a situation, you see — That might have been what — I can't really tell you.
Laura Anderson:
So, you don't have memories from school, or from growing up, of reading things, or hearing things-
Annie Avery:
Well, I didn't even — We didn't hear very much. Remember, now, the curriculum didn't have a lot about history in it. And, being a kid, these things weren't that important; at nine or ten years old. And then, when I get to Pittsburgh, things changed. The kids that I'm playing with, they say, "Well, you don't have to say 'yes sir and yes ma'am'. You respond by saying 'yes or no'." And, after I'm there, I adapt to my environment. I wasn't riding in the back of the bus. I was going wherever I thought I wanted to go. But, I don't know. It might have been the shock of coming back to Birmingham at 14; because see, I'm understanding a lot of things different than I was at nine or ten years old.
Laura Anderson:
Mm-hmm (affirmative). Sure.
Annie Avery:
You know, being mature — I was maturing, and these things were happening. I had to ride the back of the bus again. I'm saying, it was just — you know — I had to go through — I guess this is probably what prompt me. It might have been that one thing, it might have been several things. But, in hindsight now, I think that, that might have been one of the things, for sure.
Laura Anderson:
Mm-hmm (affirmative). Well, where did you go to school when you came back to Birmingham?
Annie Avery:
I was going to Lincoln Elementary, and then I went to Parker Knight School.
Laura Anderson:
Okay. What did your family — oh, man. What did your family do for a living?
Annie Avery:
Well, my mother and father were separated, but then, my dad changed tires. That's what he did. He was not as literate. My mother had been a nurse. Before we were born, mom had been a nurse.
Laura Anderson:
And, how many were in your family? How many children?
Annie Avery:
There were four of us. Two girls and two boys — [died 00:11:45]. My dad had some children that were of another union. He had two girls.
Laura Anderson:
And, where are you, in the age of the [crosstalk 00:12:03]-
Annie Avery:
I'm the oldest of all.
Laura Anderson:
Ah, okay. They all looked up to you?
Annie Avery:
Well, I don't know about that. Anyway, I'm the oldest. Do you want me to start where I was telling the story, or do you want me to go on?
Laura Anderson:
Well, we'll pick up at the Freedom Rides again. I do want you to tell it. But, I'm trying to set this in a context. So, you were living with your mother when you moved to Birmingham? And, you were the oldest?
Annie Avery:
Yes.
Laura Anderson:
You had some brothers and sisters?
Annie Avery:
Mm-hmm (affirmative).
Laura Anderson:
And, you were in Knight School at Parker?
Annie Avery:
Yeah.
Laura Anderson:
Okay. So, you got your refund. You didn't take that Greyhound.
Annie Avery:
No. Not then, I didn't take it.But, I left my knife at home. And, everything is history after that. I went to Atlanta. And, when I got to Atlanta to the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee conference, I met the first decent white people that I knew. There might have been some in Birmingham, but I didn't know them. I met Anne and Carl Braden. I met Bob Zellner, "Dottie" Miller, Penny Patch, Bill Hansen. I met other people, like, Julian Bond. I met Jim Forman. I met Bernard LaFayette. I met several other people. Charles McDew was who was the chairman at the time, I think. I met a whole host of people. And, Miss Ella Baker. I met Miss Baker for the first time, and she happened to turn out to be one of my mentors; she and Jim Forman.
Annie Avery:
After the first meeting — Actually, we got in trouble on the way back to Birmingham. We had a young white girl that wanted to meet Reverend Shuttlesworth. Well, I wanted to meet him, too, because I hadn't ever met him before. You know, I'd heard about him, but never met him personally.And, we started back to Birmingham, and we got lost and ended up in Marietta, Georgia. And, there was a bus station — during that time, Marietta was real small — real small town. And, we went in the bus station to try to get some directions. And, they spotted the white girl with us. And, during that time, if you were in a mixed group, you were considered part of the Civil Rights movement. That was a signal that you were part of — And, they wouldn't tell us anything. They were really rude to us.
And, we got back in the car, and we started out again, still going in the wrong direction. And, the police was following us. So, what they did is, they charged Wilson with speeding and arrested him. Made him drive the car back to the police station.
Now, the police station was only about a block away from the bus station. Now, we're at this point — There was another young man with us named Nathaniel Lee. He's Reverend Nathaniel Lee, now. And, now we're on foot with no car, and Wilson's in jail, and it was getting dark. And, we thought about finding a black community, but we didn't know where to look. In Marietta, we didn't know where to look.
But anyway, we got — When I looked down the road, around the street, and I saw the bus station again, I said, "Let's go to the bus station." That's the only thing I knew, was the bus station. So, we went to the bus station. When we walked in, they told us we had to leave; that we couldn't stay. And, my instincts said, "Let's buy some tickets." So, that made us customers. And, we had to go back — We felt like we were going to have to go to Atlanta by bus, anyway — back to Atlanta. That's where we bought tickets, to go back to Atlanta. Not to come to Birmingham, because we were closer to Atlanta.
We called the SNCC office and told somebody what our situation was. And then, things began to happen. Things were happening, anyway, because the bus station started getting full of a mob. It filled up with a racist mob. And, in the meantime, there was three telephone booths there. You know, during that time they had telephone booths. And, we were going to take refuge in the booths.
And, when we used the phone to call the SNCC office, we gave them the number of one of the phones; so, they were calling us. But, during that time, they had a switchboard. And, the Associated Press started calling us about every 15 to 20 minutes, asking us, Were we okay? And, I guess they got that from the SNCC office, that we were there, and that we were in danger, and that Wilson was in jail. And, I'm almost sure that the fact that the Associated Press was calling there, was bothering these people. It probably kept us from getting hurt any sooner.
Of course, if we had been there all night, we probably would have. If we had had to stay in that bus station all night, it would've been murder, because there was nothing in there but white males calling us niggers, and nigger-lovers. It just went on, and on, and on. And, they were getting worse, and worse. They had sticks and stuff. We thought we were going to get killed in there.
But, in the meantime, other things were working. They got Howard Moore, Attorney Howard Moore, and someone, I think, from Justice Department, or somebody from the State Department. They knew some — It might have been LeRoy — Senator Leroy Johnson, I believe was Senator at that time. But anyway, somebody made some moves, and they came there with Howard Moore to get Wilson out of jail. And, they took us back to Atlanta, and told us to wait until daylight. But, that was one of the times — it was one of the most frightening times — I said one of them. One of the most frightening times in my career of being a Civil Rights activist.
Laura Anderson:
Was that the first time that —
Annie Avery:
Yes.
Laura Anderson:
— you really felt the —
Annie Avery:
Yeah, I'm saying, it was really — they were really — You could tell these people were not playing. They were really about being brutal. And, we had nowhere to go. Where were we going to go?
Laura Anderson:
Well, that didn't scare you away from the movement.
Annie Avery:
No, everything was history after that. I ended up in jail in Albany, Georgia. When I got back here [Birmingham], and I met Reverend Shuttlesworth, I met him in his pajamas. He was in his pajamas that morning when we got back. And, after that, they took me down to the — what is that — I think it was the Woolworths, or Kress', or something; the "five and dime" store, to sit at the lunch counter.And, I hadn't quite gotten adjusted to this nonviolent thing, so. I'm sitting there, and this guy is going down the counter pouring ketchup and spitting on us. And, I said, "Well —," I kind of get — and Reverend Shuttlesworth said, "Come here, I want you to stand here beside me. You haven't been indoctrinated enough." And, I stood there beside — I said, "I'd like to go back up there." He said, "No, I want you to stand right here beside me." Yeah.
Laura Anderson:
He was afraid you were going to hurt one of those guys?
Annie Avery:
Well, I don't know about hurting somebody, but I really didn't — I really wasn't ready for being spit on at this point. I'm new into this thing, so this —
Laura Anderson:
[inaudible 00:22:31] ever being ready.
Annie Avery:
Yeah. But, I ended up being in all of the major activities in the Civil Rights movement during the '60s. I was in Albany, Georgia. I was arrested there. I went to Americus, Georgia to help work on voter registration there. I went to — I was arrested right here in Birmingham. And, what happened, they sent me on a decoy march. By this time, SCLC had came in, and Reverend Wyatt Tee Walker was one of my mentors. He was with the SCLC, but he was one of my mentors. And, he sent me on this decoy demonstration. I couldn't figure out what was going on. There was just a handful of us. And, I think we were arrested right there were the old post office used to be.And then later on, a larger demonstration came that was a surprise. I went on the decoy. I guess I'm supposed to — we were trying to throw them off, because once we had a march and demonstrated and it was over, we didn't do another one, you see. And, they were really surprised when the other one came.
One of my friends had said she wasn't going. She say, "You going to jail?" I said, "Yeah, I'm going with them." So, on the second march, she came. And, I got a feeling that — She made the statement, "I didn't want to be out there by myself." So, what I'm thinking is, that all of the people who were going, and she was the only one holding out, she decided she didn't want to be the one that was holding out. Because, when she showed up in jail, I said, "What you doing here? I thought you weren't going." "I decided I didn't want to be out there by myself." I said, "Okay."
And, I was in Gadsden Alabama. I tried to finish the William Moore march. I wasn't there long, out there on the road. I think I was about 15 minutes, and they picked me up. But anyway —
Laura Anderson:
How many were in your group that did that? Were you by yourself?
Annie Avery:
Well, I was the first one — I was by myself.And then, a day later — 24 hours, or so, later — Diane Nash and three other young ladies, and some fellows came.
And, matter of fact, one of the movie stars — Madeleine Sherwood — but, they bonded her out. She was the one played in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. The pregnant one that stayed pregnant all the time, in the Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Madeleine Sherwood, I'll never forget her. I think she was bonded out right away. I'm not sure, but I think one of the reasons is, she was white, and then, being the only person that was white, and being female, they wanted to get her out of there. You know, they don't want to leave —
But, we had — there was Diane Nash, and two other young ladies from Birmingham that were in jail with us. And then, I think there was four or five fellows. But, this is different than her being there alone. But anyway, we stayed in jail about six weeks, or so; maybe ten. We ended up — They finally took us to Wetumpka, the women's prison, and took the men to Kilby. There was something about a threat. Somebody was — it was a threat — coming in and take us out — do us in.
But, I worked in Gadsden, Alabama after that for a long time. I worked there. I was cattle-prodded there by the State Patrol, and the police. Arrested several times. I can't remember how many times. And, then I was in demonstrations in Tennessee. I was arrested in Danville, Virginia several times. One of the times, I served 90 days for contempt of court. That's the only time I ever served. I served those 90 days because the judge refused to set a bond, or either allow us to be released. It was two of us, and what happened is, he would sleep when we showed up for court for one of our cases. And, the courtroom was full of us, and — Matthew Jones and myself. He later on became the director of the Freedom Singers.
But, Matthew and I were there. When Matthew showed up — and we were out in the hall talking. So, finally, we walked inside, and the judge asleep. I said, "Matthew, this man asleep." He really don't intent to hear anything related to what was wrong. So, we did what we called — we walked right up to the podium and just fell out. And, one of the — what they called it — the Deputy Sheriffs, he said — and, the judge said, "What's wrong with them?" He said, "That's what they call 'going limp,' Your Honor." And, he got so angry. And the lawyers could not get — I'll never forget the lawyers. It was Mr. and Mrs. Wood. It was a husband and wife attorney, that did our work in Dansville, Virginia.
Laura Anderson:
So, were you there with SNCC?
Annie Avery:
Yes, I was on the staff for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee.
Laura Anderson:
Well, I need you to tell me about SNCC and Birmingham, because not many people talk about SNCC being in Birmingham. They talk about SCLC and ACMHR [Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights], and —
Annie Avery:
We didn't have a chapter here. That was what it was. There was no chapter here, but there were people who came into Birmingham to participate. Ruby Doris Smith-Robinson. There were several people came in. Julian and all of them came, especially when the children were killed.And, they were killed right after I got out of jail up in Danville [VA]. The project director had told me to come home and get a break, because I had been in solitary confinement for this 90 days, and on a fast. And, I came in that night, and I went in and went to bed. And, at that time we were living on 1st Street West. And, we heard the explosion. And, I thought it was Arthur Shores' house, because they were always blowing his house up; which was not too far away. Because, that was the Smithfield area.
And, I walked all the way up here. We couldn't get across because of the police line. And, within three or four hours, or so, there were a lot of people here. Julian Bond. Several other people had came in because of the death of the children. And, it was really hurting for me. Just like I say, I had just gotten out of jail. And, the bomb was what really awakened me that morning. That's what awakened me that morning.
Laura Anderson:
How did your family feel about what you were doing? I mean, they let you come home and rest here.
Annie Avery:
Well, I didn't tell them everything I was doing all the time. When something showed up in the newspaper, or something, with my name on it, some of the people who knew my mother would tell her. We weren't able to buy newspapers, and subscribe to Jet [magazine], and all that stuff. But, they would tell her.And, she knew I was doing it, but I would not tell her when I was going into a situation, because I didn't want her to worry about it. "It's okay." She found out about it, and it happened. I'm okay. But, I would not tell her. And, she got tired of that and started marching and going to jail herself so she could get first-hand information, I guess.
Laura Anderson:
That's pretty good.
Annie Avery:
Mm-hmm (affirmative). Yeah, she started marching and going to jail herself. I was also in Mississippi. I was in Clarksdale, Mississippi working on voter registration when Chaney, Schwerner, and Goodman were murdered. And, I ended up in Natchez, Mississippi, also. And Selma [AL].
Laura Anderson:
Yes, and I want us to talk about those places as much as you want to, but I wonder if you can tell me more about why you think there never was a SNCC chapter here.
Annie Avery:
I don't think it was a SNCC chapter here because I don't think SNCC was ever asked to come in, or anything like that. I don't really know for sure, except that there was no chapter here. And, there are several places where there was no SNCC chapter; which had nothing really to do with not wanting to come. I guess, just by happenstance, that SCLC was here, and all these other organizations came in.Of course, NAACP had always been around for a long time. Long before SCLC, or SNCC, or any of this stuff. The SCLC — But, SCLC came in, I think that was something that started out of the Alabama Christian movement. I think that, kind of, somewhere along in there, is where the SCLC came into play.
And, a lot of people didn't know it, that Miss Baker was, I think, the first Executive Director for the SCLC. And, she decided to take the young people under her wings. But, I don't really know, to tell the truth. I really don't know. But, wherever we were, we worked together. If we weren't friends, we became friends. You spend enough time in jail, and being threatened — your life — and you will become friends.
Laura Anderson:
I'm sure. Well, tell me about all that work you did after Birmingham, when you went to —
Annie Avery:
Oh, another thing about SCLC — SCLC was mostly ministers, too. The younger group was not ministers — necessarily. That —
Laura Anderson:
I'm well aware of differences between the organizations. I've always found it fascinating that there was no SNCC chapter here, and I just wondered — You helped me by what you said.
Annie Avery:
I hope I did, because I didn't — I really didn't think it made that much difference. I never thought of it in terms of who was here. But, I worked with — I'm from Birmingham. I had to work here, for real, because this is my home.
Laura Anderson:
Well, get back to the trajectory you were on, about your life and your story, that I keep interrupting you.
Annie Avery:
That's okay. It's fine.
Laura Anderson:
I'll just be playing with this for a minute. How long did you rest, anyway? Church got bombed, and-
Annie Avery:
I didn't rest very much, except when I was in jail.
Laura Anderson:
I can believe that.
Annie Avery:
That's when I'd rest. When they put me in jail, that's when I'd rest. Had plenty of rest. Wasn't comfortable, but I'm saying, it was rest.
Laura Anderson:
Well, I can see why you'd say that, but, I doubt you wanted to go to jail. I don't know. Tell me about [crosstalk 00:37:43]-
Annie Avery:
Well, at this point I think I didn't mind going to jail. I thought it was the thing we had to do, you know? When I was coming up, you know, breaking the law was — But, I'm saying, I found out that you had to break the laws that were unjust in order to change them. And, that's what I did. And, if it took going to jail, and sometimes risking my life, I had to make a decision if I was going to put myself in really harm's way, I had to make a decision. And, once I made the decision, if whatever happens, happens. That's about the bottom line, there.And, I think all of us did, really. Because, I was afraid, you know? But, being afraid, and then I made a decision. Well, in spite of my fear, I'm going to do this. And, once I decided to do it, I was more relaxed in doing it, because I had made a decision, and I knew what the risks were.
Laura Anderson:
So, why did you go to Mississippi? What was the job that you went to do?
Annie Avery:
To try to get people registered to vote. I had been working all along with the Civil Rights Movement, so I decided — They needed people. They said they needed some people in Mississippi, so I decided to go to Mississippi. I was in Clarksdale, Mississippi first. And, I brought people from the [volunteer] orientation down to Clarksdale with me for the Mississippi Freedom Summer. And, after that I went to Natchez, Mississippi, where it was very dangerous there, too. Friends of mine say that, "You liked it hot." I guess I did.
Laura Anderson:
Did you become a trainer? Were you training some of those students who came?
Annie Avery:
I had a group that I brought to Clarksdale with me, but a lot of my training was done training other people. I guess you couldn't say it was training. It was also discipline, because I had gotten the discipline, especially in jail. Then, I was able to pass it on to other people. Because, I realized once we were in jail, we had all kind of problems in there, too. There are people in jail who are in here for some serious stuff, so we need to stick together.Another thing is, sometimes people would get in jail, and they'd break down and cry. I'd say, "If you got to cry, go in the closet somewhere and cry. Don't — " Because, if they found out that they can intimidate us like this, even the other prisoners will intimidate us. You understand what I'm saying? We had cigarettes, and sometimes people would bring things to us; bring us stuff.
And, one time we had to have money, because they were arresting us for vagrancy. And, one time people in SNCC and CORE were not getting paid, and they couldn't deal with this stuff, with people doing all this stuff and not getting — There was no way to stop it. And, they forced SNCC and CORE to pay people.
Laura Anderson:
Who are 'they'?
Annie Avery:
I'm thinking the government. Part of whoever — because, either the cities, or whatever, they say that you to have a job. Vagrancy. We didn't have money. And, we were arrested for vagrancy.
Laura Anderson:
In Alabama?
Annie Avery:
In Alabama, and Mississippi, and Georgia, too; and several places. This law was used — Say, for instance, if you didn't have any money, and you didn't have a job — A lot of us, after this thing came up — this issue came up — we would have at least 50 cents on us to keep from getting arrested.A lot of times, we couldn't stay with people, because people were afraid. Sometimes we ended up spending a night or two in the car. And, if they stopped us, and we didn't have any money, they also — even if we had somewhere to stay, we didn't have any money. And vagrancy — I think the vagrancy law is still on the books everywhere. It means if you don't have a job, or can prove that you are working, you a vagrant. So, we started getting — what was it — $10 dollars — The big sum of $10 dollars — I think it was $10 dollars every two weeks, or something like that, or $10 dollars a week — whatever. It wasn't —
Laura Anderson:
You were on the payroll.
Annie Avery:
Yeah, I'm saying that legally, we were on a payroll. So, the vagrancy law, they couldn't use against us. Of course, they'd use whatever else they felt like using. Even if they arrested us for vagrancy, the lawyers would come in — Most of the stuff got appealed. The only thing that wasn't appealable was that contempt of court. I had to serve those 90 days. But, everything else was appealed and thrown out later on, by the higher courts. I don't have a criminal record.
Laura Anderson:
Okay. Well, tell me about rural Alabama. Working in rural Alabama. Because, you were a city girl. You had been in Birmingham and Pittsburgh.
Annie Avery:
Well, rural anywhere was — was different for me. The only thing about it being rural — It was certain things I could do. I could talk to the people, and stuff like this. But, there were times when some of the people would — and, SNCC would go out and pick cotton. I couldn't deal with that cotton picking stuff. I'll wash some dishes to eat, but I ain't going [inaudible 00:46:16] picking cotton. I'm a city girl.
Laura Anderson:
That's what I was thinking. You were a city girl.
Annie Avery:
But, the people who live there is different. I'm a city girl. I didn't change from that at all. There were some people who did some things, you know, that — I guess it was unusual. They wanted to do it, so they did. But, sometimes we had to stay with people, and we had to help them do whatever they had to do. But, I had to help do something else besides the cotton picking, and stuff like that.
Laura Anderson:
Well, when's the first time you went to a rural community?
Annie Avery:
The first time I went to a rural community was Georgia. My folks came from a rural community — my mother — and my dad. So, we would visit.
Laura Anderson:
Where were they from?
Annie Avery:
Akron, Alabama. Daddy was from Alexander City, Alabama. That's about it. Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Tuscaloosa wasn't as rural, but it got more rural as you went into Akron, which I think is 20 miles away — 20 miles from Tuscaloosa. And, we thought that was a big deal for us, when we were kids. I'm saying, it's just like we went to Chicago. So, rural areas — I wasn't that comfortable with being in rural areas. But, I did what I had to do.
Laura Anderson:
Yeah, it struck me that you have spent a good bit of time in areas like that, organizing the —
Annie Avery:
Well, I spent a time — most of my time doing Civil Rights activists, even in Atlanta. I stayed in Atalanta for 30-something years, and I was organizing cab drivers over there. So, I pretty much stayed involved. I was in the taxi cab business, but I was trying to organize cab drivers, too.
Laura Anderson:
Organize them around what? What issues —
Annie Avery:
Unity, and stuff like this. Bogus traffic violations, and stuff. And, I'm not sure I understood — it was something — And, this is from some older cab drivers, older people who were in the taxi business said something about there was a cab driver who — Now, don't quote me, because this could not be true. Because I'd never researched it, but it could've been. Said that a cab driver ran over Margaret Mitchell and killed her. If that's true — And, they haven't liked cab drivers since. And, I'm not sure whether he was a black cab driver. He might have been. Because, the hostility was directed towards mostly black cab drivers. But, I'm not sure that that's true. I'm quite sure you can probably find out whether Margaret Mitchell was — She wrote Gone with the Wind. Yeah.
Laura Anderson:
Mm-hmm (affirmative). My mother was named Melanie because of that book.
Annie Avery:
Yeah. That's what I heard, now. And, that was the story. Now, whether it's true or not — I never did try to find out.
Laura Anderson:
Well, let's try to find out. Well, can you tell me one of your favorite Ella Baker stories? About being with her —
Annie Avery:
Oh, my favorite Ella Baker story is, I was trying to put something together, and I asked Miss Baker to help me. And, she told me she would not do it. So, I asked her why, because I — you know, I got kind of frustrated. I said, "Well, I wonder why?" So, I went back and asked her why. She say, "You have to do it for yourself."And, I understand that, now. Because, if she had did it for me, I would have always been asking someone else to help me. I might not have ever did it myself, but I feel like I can do anything myself, just about. I need a little assistance every once in a while, but I believe it can be done. I might not be able to do it as well as some other people, but I'm saying I believe I can do it. Like, the computer. I don't know — I'm behind technology. I can barely deal with the cell phone, but you don't hear it ringing because I — Only thing I can do is answer and call out on it. If someone texts me, they just in trouble. If you got a message for me, if it's important, I won't get it. But, anyway, I'm working on that, too. Now, I might not be able to do as well a some other folks, but I might be able to get the basics.
Laura Anderson:
I believe it.
Annie Avery:
I know how to erase calls off of my cell phone.
Laura Anderson:
That's good.
Annie Avery:
But, it took some time for me to do this. It took a little time for me to do this. Yeah.
Laura Anderson:
But, you aren't afraid.
Annie Avery:
No. But, I'm saying, Miss Baker — the fact that she would not help me — I'm glad she didn't, now. I'm glad she didn't. And, I also thought that she had to be a pretty strong person to do what she did, especially — And then, the male chauvinists, and stuff, they never gave her credit for a lot of stuff. She was around before SCLC ever came about. When I met her, she had probably already dedicated, maybe 25 years of her life to Civil Rights.
Laura Anderson:
What do you think she would say about the commemorative events that we've all been pulling together, and celebrating, and focusing on for the last couple of years?
Annie Avery:
It's not over yet. And, I remember her saying something. You know, you got to agitate, agitate, agitate, because it's not going away. Injustice is not going away. And, that's something that stays with me.
Laura Anderson:
How does it influence what you're doing these days? And, what are you doing these days?
Annie Avery:
I'm telling stories. I'm at the Ancient Africa Civil War and Slavery Museum in Selma. During the week, I'm there at that museum from 1:00 to 5:00, and I'm there telling stories. And, I'm telling stories about what I did, but I'm also learning something there. Because, I knew very little about Africa. I'm not a historian. I knew very little about Africa. I knew very little about the Civil War.But, I'm learning a lot of things, because there are a lot of historians that do come through there. And, then, I'm having to learn everything — when I take the people on the tour, I have to know certain things in order to be effective when I do the tour. It's not perfect, but then, there are people who — historians, archeologists, anthropologists, that'll come through there, and I'm learning a whole lot from them. It's just like being in school, too, at the same time.
Annie Avery:
It's more exciting — Now, also, be over at the Voting Rights Museum there. But, I'm more excited about being at the Ancient African Slavery Museum, because I was a part of the voting rights — all the stuff that happen at the Voting Rights Museum, I knew just about all the people that were involved. I knew Jim Lawson. And, he was the one that taught Martin Luther King about nonviolence. See, all of this stuff I know, and I knew the people.But, what I'm learning at the Ancient African Slave and Civil War Museum, I'm having to revive a whole lot of things in my mind. Regroup, because there's a lot of things that I didn't know. And, there's one thing that I'm trying to work on now, it's a project. Slavery by Another Name. Convict leasing.
Laura Anderson:
Those vagrancy laws.
Annie Avery:
Yeah, but I'm just finding out, see, that they were doing — this was something they did all the time. And, not only that, I wasn't aware of the "Slavery by Another Name" — of being re-enslaved after the emancipation. So, I'm working on a timeline to go up in the museum, there. Because, after emancipation, you don't hear about it.Everybody talk about anything else. But, there was something much more brutal, and much worse than what happened before the emancipation. Because, what I'm seeing is, that if a person paid $200 dollars for a slave — if you hurt yourself, they might want to see about it. But, convict leasing, it was some — that was some terrible stuff. It was worse than the chattel slavery. I guess that's what you call it, chattel slavery. It was worse, because there was no human element in that at all. You hurt? Keep on working. You had to meet a quota, it don't matter. Living in their own feces, and germs, and — it had to be rather — And then, people dying from — what is it — tuberculosis. And, the fact that a lot of these big companies were involved in that.
Now, they don't want to acknowledge it. They said, "We didn't do it." But, they got rich. I found out that a whole bunch of people got rich off of this. People we wouldn't even think about got rich, and are very prominent today. And, the fact that they don't want to acknowledge — See, you've got to first, admit that there's a problem, or there's been a problem, because that alone — that many years of the convict leasing laws — retarded our progress.
We began to do better during reconstruction, but then, when the convict leasing — I'm saying, that just retarded and — just set everything back so many years. Up until, what was it, in the 1929 — somewhere in there — where somebody became really concerned. And, also the fact that — see, President Roosevelt, I understand — See, that's because I've been reading. I read a book every month, and sometime when I run into something like this, I have to put down the other book and go to read — One book I was trying to read was How the North Prolonged, and Profited, and Promoted Slavery.
[Referring to: Complicity: How the North Prolonged, and Profited From Slavery, by Anne Farrow. 2007]Okay? So, I had to detour from that to do this. And, it was kind of hard for me to read that, because it's hard to believe that a human would do this to another human. And another thing is, it happened — I was born in 1943, so some of this stuff pretty much had to been going on around then. My mother was born in 1911. She was born into some of this, and I don't hear my people, older people in the family, have not talked about this. And, they had to know, but if you were in Alabama, or Mississippi, or something, you had to be aware of this.
And, the putting people — and, trickery, too. The deception that went along with this. And, the plantations, and stuff. The people who made money. I mean, a lot of money. The cotton farms. All these people who made a lot of money. And, I think there was — seemingly, there was a couple of white guys who got some stuff done to them in the re-enslavement, and that's what drawed somebody's attention to — Because, see, the thing about this is, if Chaney had been murdered, and nobody murdered but him, he'd just been another dead black man.
If Jimmie Lee Jackson had been killed, and there wasn't Reverend Reeb, or Miss Viola Liuzzo, they'd just been some dead black people during that period.
[Referring to civil rights activists who were killed during the Selma voting rights campaign and march to Montgomery in early 1965.]Because, there was several people among — Reading about [Mississippi state] Senator Hurst who killed Mr. Herbert Lee. And, the only way I knew about Mr. Herbert Lee, they were talking about him at my first SNCC meeting. They were talking about Mr. Herbert Lee, who had just been murdered. It was 1961. At first SNCC conference I went to.
And then, they were talking about Clyde Kennard, who tried to enter the University of Ole Miss before Meredith did, and was arrested for stealing a sack of chicken feed, and stayed in jail for years before Dick Gregory finally raised money to get him out of jail before he died. Now, I'm thinking about all the people that we don't know about. I'm saying, why would a senator be involved in murder? [U.S.] Senator Eastland [of Mississippi] was, too.
Annie Avery:
The thing is, there was no consequences for these people, and that's the reason voting is so important. Because, if it's somebody you get in there, and you really don't like them, you need to get them out. And, the only way to legally get them out, and to get them out the right way, really, is to vote them out. But, these people didn't feel any fear about doing this stuff. There was no consequences for them. Black people weren't voting in Mississippi. What difference did it make to them? These people weren't voting. Who they care? They had nobody to be accountable to. And, that's the reason they were so bold. But anyway, I hope I'm not talking too much.
Laura Anderson:
No, it's good. And, you've gone in the right direction that I wanted for closing. You know, what — Today's Primary day. Who's voting today?
Annie Avery:
Yeah. Well, the thing about this is, it took a very long time before our people got to the point where they didn't have fear of just walking in, trying to register. It took the Justice Department — they had to literally come in and take over some of these places. But now, they got all kind of other ruses and other gimmicks — And see, my position is, that everyone should be allowed to vote, if you're a citizen in the United States of America.If they've committed crimes, and you paid your dues, and they allow you to come out in society, you should be allowed to vote. Because, you paid your dues. Now, I'm not saying they ought to let everybody out, you know, because some folks — [inaudible 01:07:27] can't let them out. But, I'm just saying that this is — But they include them in the citizen — when they do the — they include these people for taxes, and several reasons. Why can't they vote? I have nothing against them if they want to vote in prison. You're still citizens.
But, with all the justice supposed to be — And, we shouldn't have to have things to go vote. You shouldn't have to have IDs, and — it's something else, you know, in the back. They had to have an ID years ago, for the reconstruction. They had to have Freedmen's papers and some other mess. It's been one thing after the other, and don't mention the Blacks. I'm saying, it was like, you had to either — you had to own property. That was one of the criteria.
Laura Anderson:
And pay a poll tax.
Annie Avery:
Pay a poll tax. Be educated. And, when I say be educated, you had to repeat parts of the Constitution. And, guess how many bubbles was in a bar of soap, and how many marbles was in a jar, [inaudible 01:08:55]. I'm saying, this is ridiculous. It is not quite the same thing, but the ruses that are being used, and the gimmicks that are being used, are being used for the same reason. That's it. The same. The bottom line. You being used for the same purpose. That's to derail a vote in their favor, whichever.
Laura Anderson:
I'm so glad that you are just still doing what you do.
Annie Avery:
Well, I'm still registering people to vote. I'm still doing all kind — I'm still marching. Well, put it like this, I'm not marching. I'm going to demonstrations [inaudible 01:09:43]. And also, I was at the March on Washington. That was ahead of Poor People's March. March on Washington. Yeah. There's so many things that — sometime I forget. But —
Laura Anderson:
And, you're living in Selma now. You didn't come home to Birmingham, you [crosstalk 01:10:08]
Annie Avery:
Well, really, I'm kind of still living in both, really. But, what happened is, I can't afford to travel. But, in Selma I can see all the people that — some of the people, like Julian, and other people. All those people come into Selma. And, I can see my friends that I used to work with. And, I can also meet other people that I didn't know, because I don't — I didn't know a lot of people who were in the areas where I worked, because if I didn't live with them, I wouldn't have known them. Like, I'm just getting to know some of the people in Selma who was there in 1965, but I didn't live in Selma. I was Project Director for Voter Registration in Hale County where my people live. My aunts, my great aunts and stuff, live — in Hale County. Yeah.
Annie Avery:
And, Bloody Sunday, I was arrested on Bloody Sunday. I happened to been the only person that was arrested that day. The police and I were having a physical disagreement. It was just one of those unusual things that I just happen to been arrested. And, actually I think it was a godsend that I was arrested, because I probably would have been hurt very badly, too.And, I remember them having me in jail on the 2nd floor, and I could hear people screaming, and all. And, I thought it was echo coming from the river, or whatever, but it wasn't. It was people trying to — they were beating the people all the way back to Brown Chapel and to the church, see. But, this is what I was hearing. In hindsight, when I got — did I realize — I kept hearing all this noise while I was in jail, and when we start talking about it, and you're talking about people being beaten back to the church. And, I realized, geographically, where the church — because, you see, I didn't live in Selma. All this stuff was vague — very, very vague — later on. But, the fact that I could hear these people, that's where the noise was coming from. It wasn't coming from the bridge. It was coming from people trying to make it back to the church.
Annie Avery:
And, Peter Hall bonded me out of jail. Attorney Peter Hall. Out of his own pocket. I was the only one — I guess he was rationalizing when he said, "She's the only one in jail, so I'm not coming back down here to bond nobody out." So, he went on in his pocket, and bonded me out, because I wasn't but one person that was locked up that day.
Laura Anderson:
Did you want to be bonded out, or did you want to stay in there?
Annie Avery:
I didn't think about it. Because see, that come from after doing this for a while. See, when you go to jail, you're not supposed to think about when you're going to get out.
Laura Anderson:
So, you didn't know that he was going to bond you out?
Annie Avery:
No, I had no clue. And, all of the times I went to jail, I didn't worry about getting out. Whenever I got out, was whenever I got out, and I had to make myself at home inside the cell. I think the first time I went, I — I kind of had to adapt, but I knew wasn't nobody coming soon. And, the reality of it is, the more I kept going, the more I knew there wasn't people — it just ain't going to happen just like that. You might stay in for days, and months, or whatever.
Laura Anderson:
What else do you want to say to people who will find this a while from now?
Annie Avery:
I would say that — to keep fighting against injustice. And, to ensure voting rights for everyone, and justice for everybody. And, it can be done in several ways. You don't have to be a activist to do it. You can be a lawyer, or whatever — a school teacher. But, whatever you're in, if you see injustice, try to do something about it. Because, silence is a way of saying you agree. Yeah.
Laura Anderson:
Well, thank you very, very much.
Annie Avery:
Oh, great.
Laura Anderson:
You've got a lot of stories, yet, to tell. If you ever want to come back and tell different stories, you would be most welcome, but I don't want to keep you all [crosstalk 01:16:21]-
Annie Avery:
Because, you don't — you know — I always got stories because I'm always seek — I'm curious, too. See, I'm always looking for something different. And, people come in the museum —There was one guy, a white fellow came in, and his great-grandfather was killed in that Fort Pillow Massacre, I believe. It was the [inaudible 01:16:58] the Nathan B. Forrest. It was the Union soldiers, and all predominately black, but there were a few whites. I think it was a couple of whites in there, too, at this. And, he said that his great-grandfather was one of those people that was murdered.
Laura Anderson:
There are details, and details — and, that's my big battle, here, as we memorialize this movement; even as it's still happening. Details get buried. And, I don't like that, so —
Annie Avery:
Well, it's going to be — I'm saying, this stuff is going to go on for years, and years. What I see is, that some of the people don't want to talk about it. And, when I think about where my husband was born, in Rigging's Quarters here. That was probably — and, I just thought about that, that it was called Rigging's Quarters.
Laura Anderson:
Where was that?
Annie Avery:
That's what it's called. It's out, like, going toward — going past north Birmingham, and going out [U.S. Highway] 31 down to the right, down in there. Where the mines, and stuff, was. And, that speaks volumes, because that Rigging's — the fact that they call it Rigging's Quarters means that it probably was one of those places where they kept some of those convicts. You know?Otherwise, why would they call it a Quarters? That's what it's been called for years and years. And, Tennessee Coal and Iron, United Steel, and all those folks, were involved in this. That was some cruel mess. Pratt. And, I didn't realized — I'm just saying that, by reading about it, and reading specifics. And, you know, some people say, "Well, I saw the movie." Well, the movie's not going to be —
Laura Anderson:
It doesn't have those details. [crosstalk 01:19:36]
Annie Avery:
I want details.
Laura Anderson:
It'll make you, maybe, feel something, but then you — got to go read the [crosstalk 01:19:47] —
Annie Avery:
Read the details. And, that's what made me think about — because that's right over the hill, here. It's right in the middle. Pratt City, Ensley.So, what I'm thinking is, that some of my people probably were part of — they never talked about it. The only thing I remember my grandfather is, I asked him about something that was wrong with his arm. And, he said it come from hard labor. That was the only statement he made about that. Nothing specific, or anything, except it come from the hard labor.
And, by me being a child asking, I didn't know about all this other stuff. And, my great uncles, and stuff. If I had known what I know now, I could have asked them some questions, just so I would know first-hand some things that happened. Because, all of these people were probably, somehow or another, connected with this. If they were living in the area, they had to be. It was so dominant.
They couldn't walk the street. But, I also understand something else, too. I understand why our people were always encouraging our young men to go in the Army. When they got a certain age, they wanted them to get away from here.
And, that was a way to get out of this, by going in the Army and never coming back south again. Of course, everyone wasn't able to leave. You know, people left. There was one lady that came into the museum; she and her husband. And, she said — she asked me, she said, "Why didn't they fight?" With what, you know? With what? They did fight. Some people did.
I'm saying, there were probably people who fought this thing and died, but fight — And, I see from the middle of the 1400s, up to 1775, before the American Revolution, that that's when we lost most of the most important things that we needed to have some identity. Some real self-identity with Africa. We lost knowledge of our culture, we lost knowledge of our language, and the biggest thing was the connection.
Because, it was like I explained it to this friend of mine that's white. I explained to her — her great-grandfather was Winston Churchill. But, she can go to Europe and visit her folk. I can't. Different people in the family will be named after some of those folk. My name is Annie Pearl. It wouldn't be Annie Pearl if my people had known about Africa — if they could have remembered that. It was no longer prevalent, anymore. There's some people who remembered coming in from Africa. There might have been some people who did.
There were some people that came in after the American Revolution that might remember, or either might remember some of their people, or just before the emancipation, or whatever. Yeah, they could have remembered, but what would my name be if my folk could have remembered? Because, right now, I'm named after two aunts. I'm named after Aunt Annabel and Aunt Pearl. But, their names would have been something else. It wouldn't be Annie Pearl. And, that's what we have now. We have people who are looking for identity. Our people right now are looking for identity. And, some people are getting educated about Africa, and stuff like this, but if I went to Africa, who am I going to visit, in terms of visiting. You know, you figure you going to visit your aunt, or going to visit some of your relatives.
Laura Anderson:
You're a few generations away from that now, huh?
Annie Avery:
Yeah, I'm just saying, who would I visit? I might be able to find out which region I came from with DNA, because DNA is powerful. But, I wouldn't be able to find out who my aunts, and who my — Now, President Obama can, because he was born in another era, you see? And, I —
Laura Anderson:
You never stop learning. I'm turning this off.
Copyright © Annie Pearl Avery. 2014
Copyright ©
Copyright to this web page, as a web page, belongs to this web site. Copyright
to the information and stories above belong to the authors or speakers.
Webspinner:
webmaster@crmvet.org
(Labor donated)