have a good story to tell.
The lawyers ruled out Rosa Parks. Her case was still being appealed, and they wanted the new federal lawsuit to be independent of any existing criminal case. Besides, Mrs. Parks had been arrested for disturbing the peace, not for breaking the segregation law. The MIA members proposed many candidates, and Gray interviewed the most promising. In the end, he whittled the list down to five names. All were women. This was because more women than men rode the buses, and because Gray and his colleagues wanted to protect the jobs of men, who were typically regarded as the breadwinners in families. All five women Gray selected had been bullied and insulted and cheated on buses, and all were still angry about it. It may have been a short list, but Gray thought it was a good one.
Ironically, the only one of the five who had previously appeared in court on a bus case was the youngest. But she had gone through the most. She had been tested by fire. Claudette Colvin had been on Fred Grayâs short list from the moment he conceived the suit. He picked up the phone and dialed a familiar King Hill number.
C LAUDETTE: When Fred Gray called our house in January, we were all surprised. The boycott was almost two months old, and I hadnât heard from any of the leaders since it started, not even Rosa Parks. I was seven months pregnant. But we told him to come on out.
He arrived one evening with his secretary, Bernice. We sat around the coffee table in our living room, just as we had the year before, after I got arrested. He was still dressed in a dark suit and he still talked like a lawyer. Bernice still took dictation. The only change was my big belly. He described the case and discussed what would be expected of me if I took part. Because I was still a minor, he asked my parents if they would let me do it. Mom and Dad said yes.
Then he asked me. I was sitting on the piano stool. Berniceâs fingers moved whenever I spoke. He didnât mention that there would be anyone else in the suit. I thought I was going to appear alone. As I listened, I was of two minds. In one mind Iwas afraid. The way life was in the South, how could you not be afraid? You never knew who was KKK, or who would target you. Every day on the radio, Iâd hear angry white callers shouting that the Communists had invaded the black churches and people had to act now.
But I was not a person who lived in fear. My mom had always said, âIf God is for you, the Devil canât do you any harm,â and thatâs how I felt, too. We all just lived that way. And I felt that if they really needed someone, I was the right person. It was a chance for me to speak out. I was still angry. I wanted white people to know that I wasnât satisfied with segregation. Black people, too. And it didnât sound like the trial would happen until after my baby was born. You had to do what you had to do. So I said yes.
âW E TALKED TO ALL THE FAMILY AT ONCE ,â remembers Fred Gray, âand there was no reservation on anyoneâs part. I wouldnât have taken anyone with any reservation. I told them what would happen, what they would be subjected to. That there would be phone calls, there would be threats. I liked that family. They were self-sufficient. If there had been reprisals, they would have still gotten by. It took real courage to be a plaintiff in that suit. It wasnât easy. And Claudette was the youngest.â
Claudetteâs pastor, Rev. H. H. Johnson, makes a point at a mass meeting. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. (left) and E. D. Nixon stand beside him
C LAUDETTE: After they left, my mom called our pastor, Reverend Johnson, and told him what Fred Gray had asked me to do. And my reverend came out to my home. Some of my neighbors were already afraid to talk to me. White Citizens Councils had formed to take jobs away from people who joined the boycott. I felt like no one wanted to be near me because I was so
The lawyers ruled out Rosa Parks. Her case was still being appealed, and they wanted the new federal lawsuit to be independent of any existing criminal case. Besides, Mrs. Parks had been arrested for disturbing the peace, not for breaking the segregation law. The MIA members proposed many candidates, and Gray interviewed the most promising. In the end, he whittled the list down to five names. All were women. This was because more women than men rode the buses, and because Gray and his colleagues wanted to protect the jobs of men, who were typically regarded as the breadwinners in families. All five women Gray selected had been bullied and insulted and cheated on buses, and all were still angry about it. It may have been a short list, but Gray thought it was a good one.
Ironically, the only one of the five who had previously appeared in court on a bus case was the youngest. But she had gone through the most. She had been tested by fire. Claudette Colvin had been on Fred Grayâs short list from the moment he conceived the suit. He picked up the phone and dialed a familiar King Hill number.
C LAUDETTE: When Fred Gray called our house in January, we were all surprised. The boycott was almost two months old, and I hadnât heard from any of the leaders since it started, not even Rosa Parks. I was seven months pregnant. But we told him to come on out.
He arrived one evening with his secretary, Bernice. We sat around the coffee table in our living room, just as we had the year before, after I got arrested. He was still dressed in a dark suit and he still talked like a lawyer. Bernice still took dictation. The only change was my big belly. He described the case and discussed what would be expected of me if I took part. Because I was still a minor, he asked my parents if they would let me do it. Mom and Dad said yes.
Then he asked me. I was sitting on the piano stool. Berniceâs fingers moved whenever I spoke. He didnât mention that there would be anyone else in the suit. I thought I was going to appear alone. As I listened, I was of two minds. In one mind Iwas afraid. The way life was in the South, how could you not be afraid? You never knew who was KKK, or who would target you. Every day on the radio, Iâd hear angry white callers shouting that the Communists had invaded the black churches and people had to act now.
But I was not a person who lived in fear. My mom had always said, âIf God is for you, the Devil canât do you any harm,â and thatâs how I felt, too. We all just lived that way. And I felt that if they really needed someone, I was the right person. It was a chance for me to speak out. I was still angry. I wanted white people to know that I wasnât satisfied with segregation. Black people, too. And it didnât sound like the trial would happen until after my baby was born. You had to do what you had to do. So I said yes.
âW E TALKED TO ALL THE FAMILY AT ONCE ,â remembers Fred Gray, âand there was no reservation on anyoneâs part. I wouldnât have taken anyone with any reservation. I told them what would happen, what they would be subjected to. That there would be phone calls, there would be threats. I liked that family. They were self-sufficient. If there had been reprisals, they would have still gotten by. It took real courage to be a plaintiff in that suit. It wasnât easy. And Claudette was the youngest.â
Claudetteâs pastor, Rev. H. H. Johnson, makes a point at a mass meeting. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. (left) and E. D. Nixon stand beside him
C LAUDETTE: After they left, my mom called our pastor, Reverend Johnson, and told him what Fred Gray had asked me to do. And my reverend came out to my home. Some of my neighbors were already afraid to talk to me. White Citizens Councils had formed to take jobs away from people who joined the boycott. I felt like no one wanted to be near me because I was so
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