Memories of a momentous occasion in Selma
- March 8, 2015
- / Carlton J. Charles III
- / training-development
I had the invaluable opportunity on Saturday to witness President Barack Obama's inspiring remarks at the Edmund Pettus Bridge during the 50th Anniversary of "Bloody Sunday,” perhaps the most pivotal moment in the Civil Rights Movement.
It was a joyous occasion with those in attendance basking in a positive energy born from all being innately aware that they were witnessing history in this measurable testament to progress, epitomizing the unconquerable human spirit and the triumph of good over evil.
But a mere hundred feet outside the cameras' glare, there was discourse.
I had noticed them almost immediately, long before the first guest speaker had uttered a single word; a small group of adolescents smoking cigarettes, roughhousing and shadowboxing, and generally acting irreverently.
[caption id="attachment_19496" align="alignright" width="172"]
Carlton J. Charles III is sales manager for Cumulus Media. He returned to Pensacola after spending 28 years in Louisiana.[/caption]
I'd watched them intermittently before dismissing them as knuckleheads. I turned my attention to the dais as the scheduled speakers and dignitaries began to arrive.
By the time the presidential motorcade arrived an hour later, I had completely forgotten about the rowdy teens. But 10 minutes into the president's speech, they made their presence known.
One of them played a cadence on a snare drum while the others chanted, "We want change!" Those around them, many of whom were old enough to have witnessed and suffered through "Bloody Sunday,” endured and overcame the atrocities of the civil rights era, attempted to shout them down, but they remained indignant and disruptive until someone in the crowd managed to get the attention of a group of Alabama State Troopers.
The troopers persuaded the group of teenagers to disperse without making the situation worse.
In the end, they carried out a purple-haired protester who had sprawled herself at their feet. It all ended without incident.
It was all surreal when you consider that 50 years to that very day, the nation watched as 500 "colored" peaceful protesters were bludgeoned and brutalized by Alabama State Troopers as they sought to march from Selma to the State Capitol in Montgomery to petition for their right to vote.
This group of eight or nine protesters, the majority of whom were African-American, were treated much more respectfully and humanely. I wholeheartedly believe in free speech, and the world-changing capabilities of peaceful protest and "civil" disobedience.
But I feel confident that there was no John Lewis, Diane Nash, Julian Bond or Whitney Young among this group. I'm not even convinced that they knew what they were protesting.
Their discontent seemed fueled more by teenage angst, peer pressure and grandstanding than tied to any relatable cause or struggle. It was more "look at me" than drawing attention to an injustice.
I thought it ironic that while they chanted for change, the first African-American president of the United States addressed a multicultural and socio-economically diverse crowd of some 20, 000 people from the foot of a bridge whose namesake was a founding member and leader of the Alabama KKK.
It amuses me to think that Edmund Pettus must be rolling around in his grave knowing that the bridge that bears his name is a now a symbol of a civil rights victory; a monument to the fortitude of a people he tried to intimidate and terrorize ... but that was all lost on those adolescent protesters.
Something tells me that 10 to 15 years from now, when those misguided youths are punching clocks, paying mortgages and raising children of their own, they'll regret their behavior on that historic and monumental day.
Perhaps they'll take solace in knowing that their appalling disrespect for the office of the presidency of the United States of America was skewed by youthful ignorance.
That, after all, is more than I can say for Congress.
Carlton J. Charles III is sales manager for Cumulus Media. He returned to Pensacola after spending 28 years in Louisiana.[/caption]
I'd watched them intermittently before dismissing them as knuckleheads. I turned my attention to the dais as the scheduled speakers and dignitaries began to arrive.
By the time the presidential motorcade arrived an hour later, I had completely forgotten about the rowdy teens. But 10 minutes into the president's speech, they made their presence known.
One of them played a cadence on a snare drum while the others chanted, "We want change!" Those around them, many of whom were old enough to have witnessed and suffered through "Bloody Sunday,” endured and overcame the atrocities of the civil rights era, attempted to shout them down, but they remained indignant and disruptive until someone in the crowd managed to get the attention of a group of Alabama State Troopers.
The troopers persuaded the group of teenagers to disperse without making the situation worse.
In the end, they carried out a purple-haired protester who had sprawled herself at their feet. It all ended without incident.
It was all surreal when you consider that 50 years to that very day, the nation watched as 500 "colored" peaceful protesters were bludgeoned and brutalized by Alabama State Troopers as they sought to march from Selma to the State Capitol in Montgomery to petition for their right to vote.
This group of eight or nine protesters, the majority of whom were African-American, were treated much more respectfully and humanely. I wholeheartedly believe in free speech, and the world-changing capabilities of peaceful protest and "civil" disobedience.
But I feel confident that there was no John Lewis, Diane Nash, Julian Bond or Whitney Young among this group. I'm not even convinced that they knew what they were protesting.
Their discontent seemed fueled more by teenage angst, peer pressure and grandstanding than tied to any relatable cause or struggle. It was more "look at me" than drawing attention to an injustice.
I thought it ironic that while they chanted for change, the first African-American president of the United States addressed a multicultural and socio-economically diverse crowd of some 20, 000 people from the foot of a bridge whose namesake was a founding member and leader of the Alabama KKK.
It amuses me to think that Edmund Pettus must be rolling around in his grave knowing that the bridge that bears his name is a now a symbol of a civil rights victory; a monument to the fortitude of a people he tried to intimidate and terrorize ... but that was all lost on those adolescent protesters.
Something tells me that 10 to 15 years from now, when those misguided youths are punching clocks, paying mortgages and raising children of their own, they'll regret their behavior on that historic and monumental day.
Perhaps they'll take solace in knowing that their appalling disrespect for the office of the presidency of the United States of America was skewed by youthful ignorance.
That, after all, is more than I can say for Congress.
Recent Posts
-
CivicCon launches with a look at good growth in cities
-
Building stronger brains one baby, one parent at a time
-
SCI debuts commercial on Early Learning City
-
Entrecon: World class speakers and an opportunity to sharpen skills
-
PYP Quality of Life survey 2017
-
EntreCon Pensacola 2016: A look back
-
Leadership tip: getting better employee takeaways
-
Leadership tip: be interested instead of interesting
-
Leadership tip: delivering difficult messages
-
Brain Bags boost Arc, Early Childhood Court programs