Morgan - Northwood

Northwood theatre was a segregated movie theatre in a segregated shopping center six blocks from campus. Students couldn't eat in the restaurant, try on clothes in the store, nor take a seat in the movies. Mostly, it didn't matter: the food was terrible, and the clothes were out of date, but the movies, that was a different story. Even if all there were to see were Doris Day and Rock Hudson, that was date night, and everybody wants to go to the movies, especially one that was six blocks away. 

The student president (I believe his name was Reggie Louis) called a meeting of student leaders and proposed Morgan State spearhead an action to integrate the Northwood Theatre. Picketing, of course, but also trespassing, i.e., the possibility of arrest. We had to be prepared for that. I wasn't. A decision I regret to this day. I'd picket and do anything short, but I wasn't ready to get arrested. I was still tethered to my family in such a way that the idea of an arrest pumped fear into my guts, not so much of the police, but having to deal with my family's disdain and displeasure. I was in the process but not yet ready to completely sever my ties. I remember the shame I felt when I told Reggie Louis that my arrest was out. He said he understood, however, had I been he, I would have thought much less of him than before he admitted he didn't have the cojones to go through with it. I did picket (and never felt so naked in all my life), but an arrest was out. Dozens of students, many friends of mine, went to the slammer but not this one. It's one of those things in my life that if I had it to do over...you know what I mean.

Onward.

One big irony. Well, actually, two. Northwood Theatre was owned by the father of a friend of mine at the time, not a close friend, but a guy I sometimes hung with. His name was not Albert so I'll call him Albert. Al was always bugging me to take him with me when I went to parties at Morgan. I rarely went to parties myself, and I damn sure wasn't about to take him with me when I did go to one. Here his father wouldn't let them in, but Albert wanted to party. Draw your own conclusions. Once he saw me on the picket line that was pretty much the end of our relationship. I managed to navigate all my different worlds rather smoothly, going from one to the next simply doing what had to be done while there, but there were some relationships that had to be severed. 

About this time, Freedom Rides were being taken along the Eastern Shore, arguably the most racially hostile part of Maryland. Freedom Riders were integrated groups of Blacks and Whites who chartered buses in an attempt to integrate the restaurants, bars, bowling alleys, and other businesses in the area. The buses always faced hostility from white mobs, often met with outright violence. Firebombing a bus full of passengers was a favorite. One time an African diplomat, royalty in his own country, was refused service. He was not a freedom rider, only a diplomat (a prince, actually) in a private car headed to Washington, D.C. When the owner of the restaurant was told of this man's stature, his response was, "He looked just like any other nigger to me." Well, a girl I was dating at the time thought this was the funniest thing she'd ever heard, made her laugh so hard she damn near screamed, damn near peed herself she thought it so funny. I can still hear her. It was repugnant. I can't remember what I said or even if I were so disgusted I said nothing at all,  but I do remember turning and walking away, never to see her again. How dare she? How dare anybody?

I said there were two ironies. Here's the second one: the mayor of Baltimore was the father-in-law of my cousin. Legend has it that, after weeks of student protests and arrests, he strode into that theatre, pointed his finger at the owner, and ordered, "You will integrate this theatre now." And the waters calmed. And the Northwood was integrated." Such is legend. It made it seem as if it were the mayor's command - Moses parting the sea - and not the three weeks of blood, sweat, and tears endured by the students that broke down that barrier and integrated that place. No politician did this. No white saviour. Morgan did. It was an act of devotion and determination pulled off by a student body determined to be polite yet determined not to budge.