Yesterday, I posted the podcast of my interview with Elizabeth Eckford, who recounted her experience as she and eight other students desegregated Little Rock Central High School in 1957.
I wanted to share some of the highlights of our conversation because I believe the stories of the civil rights era must not be forgotten.
In 1957, Arkansas Gov. Orval Faubus had called out the National Guard to preserve peace and order, but he also declared that if Eckford and her fellow Black showed up at the school, blood would run through the streets. However, Eckford still expected the National Guard would protect all students.
“I knew there were demonstrators across the street from the school, but I wasn’t frightened then,” she shared. “So I walked up to the National Guard after I saw them break ranks to admit white students to the school grounds, and they closed ranks when I approached them.”
Little Rock Central High covered two city blocks and had three entrances. The guardsmen blocked all three. Eckford said, “ A soldier directed me across the street where those angry demonstrators were. When I stepped out into the street, they continued yelling and threatening me. I heard a voice say, ‘Let’s hang her. Get a rope. Drag her over to the tree,’ and other people were threatening my life.”
She was familiar with the neighborhood, and the teenager began walking to the bus stop at the end of the street, followed by reporters and the mob. Eckford recalled, “I turned and looked at the crowd because I was looking for help. I saw an elderly woman who had a kind face. As I turned toward her, she spat on me.”
She continued, “I continued walking to the next bus stop, which in my mind meant safety for me. I felt it would be a respite for me, but they continued following me and threatening me. It was very, very frightening.”
Four local reporters stood behind her at the bus stop, serving as a human barrier so people couldn’t strike her from behind. At the bench, two education writers from the Washington Post and New York Times tried to comfort her.
Eckford said, “I remember one said, ‘Don’t let them see you cry.’ And when the white man put his arm across my shoulder and comforted me, the crowd started spewing hatred and vitriol toward them. It was so horrible.”
Anxious to get away, she walked to a nearby drug store, hoping to call a cab, but the owners locked the door. When the bus finally arrived, Eckford said, “A woman, who had confronted the crowd and said that they should be ashamed, got on the bus with me. Two teenage boys tried to get on the bus. She kicked them back. The driver slammed the door and drove away quickly.”
The bus took her to her mother and safety. She said, “My experience taught me the power of language and what it is like when people turn away or just become bystanders and don’t acknowledge what is happening.”
Eckford added, “One of the things I try to do in talking about the oral history, I try to impart lessons about what ordinary people can do. I never ask them to try to defend someone being harassed because that can be dangerous, but I asked them to treat other people the same way they want to be treated.”
“An Evening with Elizabeth Eckford: Little Rock Nine Icon” is 5:30 p.m. Thursday at Pensacola State College in the Ashmore Auditorium at 1000 College Blvd., Building 8. Register here.
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