, VI A? A
By MIKE YOPP
DTH Managing Editor
i easy to get to Selma
OnJv nno k. i- . o iiu du sci vice diiu
tnI "L lme routes coaches trough the smaU Alabama
vw uves at 4:23 a.m.
eachUf hUe arS Were parked in front of the bus station. In
Sheriff to Pssemen, Dallas County residents deputized by
fhrea 1 S Clark' They gave some dirty looks, but made no
tnreats. Those came later.
JnhL!fftithe bUS With a civil rihts worker fm Washington.
fMobodj else got off. "Know where you're going?" he asked.
t, JkNoPG' thG hteIs are fuIL You?" He had a few telephone
numbers so we walked to a nearby phone booth. Under the icy
stares of eight armed men, we became fast friends.
His third call paid off. "You might have to sleep on the
noor, but you're welcome to come along," he offered. A floor
with sharp nails sticking through it would have been better than
that cold Selma street.
We couldn't call just any cab. It had to be from a special
taxi service he said. There was one parked around the corner.
The house was nestled deep in the heart of a Negro neigh
borhood, probably the largest one in town.
C. T. Vivian, an aid to Dr. Martin Luther King, answered
the door. He was a guest too, in the home of Mrs. Amelia Bovn
ton, secretary of the Alabama Southern Christian Leadership
Conference. There were five or six others sleeping there. One
of them was national CORE director James Farmer.
Nobody Was Sleepy
It was late. Everybody was tired. Nobody was sleepy.
Vivian and Mrs. Eoynton filled us in on the day's activities.
King was here, Vivian said, and everything was set for the
march. Then he excused himself. "There's a conference," he
Mrs. Boynton talked of her injuries from Sunday's attempted
march on the state capitol at Montgomery. She was bruised all
Founded Feb. 23, 1893
. UNC-G Students Assemble
False Alarm Halts
A Speaker Ban protest lecture
F attended by UNC-G students in
the Greensboro Public Library
I Tuesday night was temporarily
halted by police and firemen after
a false alarm was turned in.
The program, part of Greens
boro lecture series "Great Deci
sions 1965," featured the Second
Secretary of the Polish Embassy
The secretary, Rsyzard Krysto
sik, was .prevented from address
ing UNC-G students on their cam
pus by the state's Speaker Ban
Law because of his membership
LB J Confers
THURMONT, Md., UP) Presi
dent Johnson flew to his Marine
guarded mountain retreat near
here Wednesday to confer with
key military and diplomatic ad
visors and to inspect a neighbor
ing anti-poverty project.
Johnson flew by helicopter to
Camp David, the Presidential
cloister in the Catoctin Mountains,
with Secretary of Defense Robert
S. McNamara, Secretary of State
Dean Rusk, special assistant Bill
Movers, and McGeorge Bundy, as
sistant for national security af
fairs. Announcing that the men would
hold a general review of world
problems, Press Secretary George
. E. Reedy said, "There's no speci
fic problem or no specific issue
that will be involved in this."
After the presidential helicopter
landed at Camp David at 3:46
p.m., Johnson drove about a mile
. to a new job corps camp in
Catoctin Mountain Park. Reedy
said he wanted to see how the
job corps was doing in its effort
to help young people who lack
basic education and job skills.
Most of Johnson's time in Mary
land was budgeted, however, for
the Camp David conference which
rn Hfrrihed as a continuation
of a luncheon meeting he had at
the White House Tuesday with
McNamara, Rusk and Bundy.
"There will be discussions on
general matters, the world situa
tion, probably some military mat
ters such as military pay legis
lation," Reedy said. Accompany
ing the group were presidential
assistants Marvin Watson and
Camp Davd. which in some ways
is more closely guarded than the
White House, has been used as
a weekend retreat by all Presi
dents since Franklin D. Roose
velt who originally named it
"Shangri-La." Johnson had been
at the camp only twice before,
early last year.
Reedy offered no explanation
why the military-diplomatic con
ference was being held there in
stead of at the White House.
J-i-C? L. V- II M V A
There's no air service and
in the Communist Party of his
UNC-G student Pamela Pfaff,
one of the organizers of the off
campus lecture, led a quiet, ban
nerless protest march of 100 girls
from .the campus to the library.
Miss Pfaff, a senior from
Greensboro called the demonstra
tion a "protest by presence."
The false alarm was turned in
from a box located beside an
elevator on the first level of the
basement of the library, known
as the "upper stairs" level.
A member of the library staff
told police that entrance coSud
be gained to the floor only by use
of a special key or by stairways
descending from two ground level
The lecture was delayed while
alarms were turned off and police
and firemen checked to see if
safety regulations were being ad
hered to for the safety of the
The protest march was granted
a parade permit by city officials
only after student leaders promis
ed not to picket, chant or carry
posters during their walk to the
University officials and stu
dents said the protest was not
an organized move by any group
but an expression by students who
wished their feelings known about
Police are seeking the person
who turned in the false alarm.
Members of the Faculty Club
at their weekly luncheon Tues
day heard a debate on the topic
"Should the Honor System Be
Of the approximately 100
members of the faculty in at
tendance, only two voted to abo
lish the system.
Debating in favor of retaining
the Honor System was Eric Van
Loon. His opponent was debate
club president Bob Powell.
Craige dormitory and the
Piedmont Sports Car Club will
co-sponsor a Gymkahna Sunday
at the Wellons Village Shopping
Center in Durham.
In preparation for the week
end, there will be a rally clinic
at Craig Thursday at 8 p.m
open to all students.
The groups will hold a closed
rally Saturday for members of
the Piedmont Club and residents
of Maverick House.
Additional information may
be obtained from Sam Blate,
over and had suffered briefly from tear gas burns.
The Washington rights worker brushed the long hair out of
his eyes and talked of rights work in the nation's capital. He
revealed that he was treasurer of Prince George County White
Citizens Council. After our mouths closed, he laughed and said
he was one of a large group of CORE and NAACP members
who had infiltrated the council and taken over its policy.
"We're got the charter and we're the council as long as we
stay in control." He said the council wasn't too active.
The tone of the conversation was quite different from one
I participated in about four hours earlier in Birmingham. A
Birmingham doctor sat by me on the flight and later we ate
dinner and drove through the downtown section with him pointing
out the signs of progress in this city torn by racial strife only
one year ago.
He condemned the actions of militant rights workers there
and in Selma, and it was a rational line, not typical southern
Alabama Klan talk.
Not On The Floor
But we didn't sleep on the floor. The rights worker slept
on a couch and I bunked out on a tiny cot with my knees hang
ing off the edge.
"Bombings?" I thought, and remembered houses of rights
workers which were blasted. Often they weren't hurt because they
were sleeping in the rear and only the front of the dwelling
was shattered. We were in the front. With those thoughts in
mind, I fell into a restless sleep about 5:30 a.m.
Thud! Something slammed against the screen door five feet
from my head. I leaped from the cot and grabbed the foot of
the rights worker. "Hit the floor!" I shouted. Nothing happened.
I crawled to the door and peeped out. There, unexploded on the
porch, was the morning edition of the Birmingham Post-Dispatch.
I laughed and the rights worker mumbled a sleepy oath
arid snored again.
The house was a meeting place of SCLC workers and white
CHAPEL HILL, NORTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY, MARCH 11,
Minifi ".. ' . " - ' "...in.
' v ;
James Broivn Came To Town
Photo by Jock Lauterer
State Name Change
RALEIGH VP) Cries that the
proposed name change for North
Carolina State would destroy the
Consolidated University went un
heeded Wednesday as the House
overwhelmingly passed the mea
sure. - Only a scattering of noes could
be heard in the House voice vote
on the proposal to change the
school's name to North Carolina
State University at Raleigh from
the present name, North Carolina
State of the University of North
Carolina at Raleigh.
The bill, backed by State alum
ni, faces tougher opposition on
the Senate side, home of Sen.
Ralph Scott of Alamance. Scott is
a State alumnus but he strongly
opposes the bill and is chairman
of the Senate Higher Education
Wnile the opposition votes were
not strong in the House, their
"If this bill passes, it will do
a great deal of harm to higher
education," said R. D. McMillan
of Robeson, chairman of the
House Higher Education Commit
tee. "The name suggester sets
North Carolina State apart," he
said. He added that the propos
al was the first step towards
destruction of the Consolidated
University of North Carolina which
also has campuses at Greensboro
and Chapel Hill and will have
one in Charlotte.
Freshman Rep. C. W. Phillips
of Guilford echoed McMillan's
warnings in his maiden House
"I listened to the hearings," he
said, "and I cannot bring myself
to agree with the proposition."
The measure, he said, was the
first move to "drive away consolidation."
But in all the heat generated
in the. debate, not even consoli
dation was safe.
"If I were sure that this meas
ure would have a tendency to
deconsolidate, I would vote for
it . . ." roared Scotland Rep.
Consolidation, he said, has
dragged Woman's College in
Greensboro down from the status
of a fine university to a "co-educational
The Town Board of Aldermen
unamiously adopted a resolution
Monday night urging the owners
of the property adjoining the Bap
tist Church not to construct a
walk-in restaurant there.
Alderman Roland Giduz intro
duced the resolution which advis
ed the owner that by changing
his plans he would "be acting not
only in the over-all interests of
the citizens of the Town of Chap
el Hill, but in his own enlighten
. Town Attorney J. Q. LeGrand
said there was nothing in the zon
ing ordinance at present which
could prevent the construction of
the proposed hamburger stand by
the Bell chain of Charlotte. Mr.
LeGrand said "I don't know
whether the Legislature itself
could do anything" about regu
lating buildings with regard to
'sin Cme d0WD f0r the ra"y- The visits beg
ZJ1 V. Were m the center '"e living room we wip
tile s pon ntii- r .
r uut VL our eyes at about 7:30
NeJriwSS atue W3S ready t0 march- ne Birmingham
Ind l anTt n Mhlisters from Boston' Bloomington,
how SSr J ?' TenD WGre Willing to march' but jked abu
how they would "pass out" after the first few miles.
hnt Negr aiTived with a huge cardboard box overflowing with
S g? aDd gritS' Five Negro women Prepared dinner for
aoout 6V hungry men.
There was plenty of time for talk before breakfast, but after
me last egg was eaten the house was emptied in a matter of
minutes. Everybody went to Brown Chapel A.M.E. Church, the
gathering point for the march.
Most of the faces at the church were young. But there were
plenty of older people too and a large number of clergymen who
had come to march.
The morning passed with scores of speakers arousing the
sentiments of the mixed crowd. Between talks there were songs
and it appeared the civil rights songbook had grown since the
Chapel Hill demonstrations.
So there were speeches and "Yes, brother, you know it."
And there was singing and hands clapping and feet beating
rhythm on the wooden floor of the old chapel.
The crowd grew as the time for King's arrival drew near.
It became increasingly difficult to move among the hundreds
jamming the church and the crowd outside that spilled over
into a residential area across the street.
Then King arrived and hundreds made a' last effort to get
inside the already overflowing church. Scores of newsmen at
tempted to follow King through a side entrance.
Reporters and cameramen jammed the door and a large
Negro kept yelling, "No more inside, no more inside." A tele-
In 'Poor 9 Condition
BIRMINGHAM Ala., UP) A
Boston white minister who came
South to help Alabama Negroes
win voting rights lay in critical
condition Wednesday after he was
beaten. by a gang of white men.
A spokseman at University Hos
pital said Wednesday the condi
tion, of ..the Rev-James J. Reeb,
3S-y ear-old father ' of four r had
worsened. The churchman, the
spokesman said, was in an "ex
ttremely critical condition . . .
his prognosis is poor."
Twice this morning his heart
stopped, the hospital saidv Both
times he was restored immediate
ly." His wife arrived in Birmingham
this afternoon. She was immedi
ately available for comment.
In Selma three men were ar
rested in connection with the
assault and a fourth man was
Reeb and two other white Uni
tarian ministers were attacked
after they left a Negro restau
rant in downtown Selma Tues
day night. The clergymen had
attended a civil rights rally earli
er. As Reeb, the Rev. Arloff F. Mil
ler, 25, also of Boston, and the
Rev. Clark Olsen, 32, Berkeley,
Calif., started down the dark
street, white men yelled at them
from across the street.
"Hey, you niggers," said one
of the white men. The ministers
quickened their pace, but the
white men ran across the street
and a club whistled through the
"It struck Reeb in the back of
the head with a sickening thud,"
Miller said he crouched as he
had been taught to do.
"The assailants either hit me
with the club or kicked me," he
"They slugged Olsen, then left.
As soon as we regained our sens
es we walked 1xz blocks to the
SCLC (Southern Christian Leader
ship Conference) office.
"Jim (Reeb) was incoherent at
first and we helped him walk.
Then his head cleared, but he
was in terrific pain and groaned
loudly. We were taken to Burwell
Infirmary (for Negroes) for treat
ment. I had minor head bruises
and Olsen was not visibly hurt.
"Suddenly Jim got sick and
lapsed into unconsciousness. The
doctor there decided it was too
serious for him and decided to
send us to Birmingham.
"We got into an ambulance and
started but got only a few miles
when he had a Cat tire. The driv
er drove on the rim until we
reached a telephone. While we
waited for another ambulance;
several cars loaded with whites
drove by and stared at us. 'Some
of them returned several times.
"Then a Dallas County Sheriff's
car stopped and deputies got out.
They surrounded us and demand
ed to know who was hurt, jabbing
their flashlights around the car.
They weren't really discourteous,
but frankly I was scared stiff."
A second ambulance took the
ministers to Birmingham, about
100 miles away. Reeb was given
a.m. to make room for
Volume 72, Number 110
emergency treatment at Univer
sity Hospial. Then he underwent
a 70-minute brain operation.
The hospital said he had multi
ple skull fractures and a large
blood clot over the left side of
The ministers were among sev
eral hundred churchmen who went
- to Selma in support of the voter
rights campaign being carried on
by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr..
Reeb and Miller marched in
a parade led by King Tuesday
afternoon; Olsen said he arrived
after- the activity had started.
The parade was to have been
a 50-mile march to the state
capital in Montgomery to drama
tize the voter drive.
State troopers Sunday beat the
marchers with Billies and tear
gas after they reached the out
skirts of town. It was this action
which prompted many white
ministers from throughout the na
tion to join the campaign.
Selma Public Safety Director
Wilson Baker said this morning
that police know who the white
assailants were. "We expect to
make some arrests," he said.
Olson said in an interview Tues
day night, ."I am extremely sorry
that there are people in this coun
ty who have as much hate as
those men had in their eyes."
CONCERT SET FOR SUNDAY
Violinist Jack Glatzer will
perform in the Graham Memor
ial Lounge Sunday at 8 p.m. The
program is sponsored by the
GM Music Committee.
Glatzer, who began the study
of the violin at the age of live,
has been enthusiastically receiv
ed both in the United States and
In 1956 the then 17-year-old
Glatzer was awarded first prize
in violin in the Merriwether
Post Competition. As a result of
this achievement he performed
the Brahms Concerto with the
National Symphony Orchestra.
THE GRUNT AND GROAN CREW of the Con
federate submarine Huntley are a part of an
exhibit now in the Naval armory commemora
vision camera crew had the right idea. They joined together
into something resembling a flying wedge and pushed through
the tightly-packed, screaming corps of newsmen. I joined in
as last man on the wedge and squeezed into the door behind a
By this time the people inside were worked into a single,
yelling, screaming, stomping unit. They were ready to march
and probably wouldn't have taken "No" for an answer even if
King would have demanded it. He didn't.
"I've got to march!" he roared. The crowd went wild. The
cheers died down and plans for the march were announced. The
Medical Committee for Human Rights announced it had mobilized
a fleet of ambulances complete with doctors and nurses. But
the excited spokesman for the committee got a little ahead of
himself in his instructions on what to do if attacked.
"If you are knocked unconscious," he warned, "make sure
somebody sta's with you." The 900 people jamming the chapel
laughed, but soon forgot it. They were ready. And they poured
out of the church with the spirit of a football pep rally.
It was quiet as the marchers left the church and walked
toward the Edmund Pettus bridge about 10 blocks away. Lead
ing the march at that time were James Orange and Rev. A. D.
Williams King. Orange sported blue overalls. "I have no fear,"
Possemen, state troopers, sheriff's deputies and city police
men lined the route. All had helmets. Some had Confederate
flags decaled on the sides. The march proceeded across the
bridge after a confrontation with a U. S. marshal on the Selma
side. King was in the lead now.
"No one will be allowed across the bridge unless they have
a press pass from Sheriff Clark or are marching." This message
boomed from a loudspeaker in a patrol car. I didn't have one
and I cursed myself for not taking time to get one that morning.
I ran across the long bridge which spans the Alabama River,
hoping to beat the car with the loudspeaker. I didn't. A blue
shirted trooper met me as I left the bridge.
"Got a pass?" I showed him my press card. Not good
enough. It had to be one issued by Clark. A hasty argument
did me no good. "Either get a pass or get on the bridge," was
his final word. That was unless I wanted to march with the
demonstrators. The idea wasn't appealing.
I looked from the bridge as the marchers filed past. "Can't
get a story from here," I told an Atlanta cameraman who also
hd not bothered to get a pass. "Yep," he said, and we joined
the march about 10 ranks from the front.
We skirted the outside until we were even with King and
walked through the lines of troopers on each side of the road
toward the roadblock about 400 yards away. "Know how an
Indian felt when he ran a gauntlet?" I asked the cameraman.
"Yep," he muttered and looked at the hands of the troopers
as they fingered long riot sticks slung on their waist near their
A Trooper Moved
So it went, a cameraman and a reporter walking with 1.000
marchers to within 10 yards of the human roadblock backed up
by state patrol cars. But one of the evenly-spaced troopers had
moved, leaving a 10-yard gap between riot sticks. We ducked
out of the line. "You two press?" demanded a trooper. "Yes."
We were in.
We squeezed in among the dozens of other newsmen gathered
by the roadblock until the cameraman was ordered back about
200 yards along with others who carried television cameras.
The air was tense with excitement and loud with the roar of
jets from a nearby air base eivim the affair a close look. "Be
a good time for a cloudburst," wished a newspaper reporter.
But the feared melee didn't take place. As King turned
his marchers around after a prayer service the quarter-mile long
line burst-into song: "We Love Everybody." A veteran newsman
on my right relaxed, smiled and joinctd in the song.
They sang" all the way back as reporters and cameramen
broke into the ranks for quotes and comments from the many
rights leaders gathered there.
"This is getting old," remarked a Selma man standing in front ,
of his store. "Poor white trash," was the usual comment. No
one seemed to notice the Negroes.
They walked to the chapel and listened to more speeches.
It was over and the town relaxed. But the stillness of the Ala
bama sunset was shattered with the sirens of ambulances that
carried three white ministers to a hospital after a beating by
angry whites outside of a downtown cafe.
And if you were a stranger in town, you could count on very
little service in a restaurant. But the food was good.
Selma looked like an army, camp Tuesday night. Armed men
walked the streets in groups and patrol cars cruised. You count
about one patrol car in every four that passed Broad Street,
which houses Selma's main area.
There was still a lot going on, but I had to catch a 10:30 p.m.
bus to Birmingham to get an early flight out Wednesday morning.
"Which way to the Greyhound bus station?" I asked two posse
men. "You a stranger?" one asked. "Yes." "Then you're look
ing for trouble." The word "trouble" brought four others to their
side. Not one of the six possemen smiled as the short one with
a scar on his nose told me I was a troublemaker and that I was
unwelcome. No explanation would suit him. "Get out of town,"
"That's exactly what I'm trying to do if you people think you
might know where the bus station is." He wanted to argue. After
looking at the riot sticks for the second time that day and think
ing that they could probably kill a man and not be prosecuted,
Finally, a large posseman offered the information. The scar
nosed man repeated his "get out of town" threat. I didn't like
it, but there wasn't much choice on that dark side street. The
only consideration was seeing the amazed looks on their faces
when I said: "Thank all you gentlemen so much."
It was three hours before the bus left so I walked the streets
of Selma. But all was quiet and heavily guarded.
There were no possemen around as I boarded the bus along
with two others, a white youth and a Negro construction worker.
I sat on the third row of the empty vehicle. The youth sat on the
first. The middle-aged Negro walked to the back of the bus.
ting the civil war. The exhibit features real
istic moving models. Photo by Jock Lauterer