By Marian Wright Edelman
“On March 7, 1965, a group of us attempted to march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, to dramatize to the nation that people wanted to register to vote. One young African American man had been shot and killed a few days earlier, in an adjoining county called Perry County . . . and because of what happened to him, we made a decision to march. In Selma, Alabama, in 1965, only 2.1 percent of blacks of voting age were registered to vote. The only place you could attempt to register was to go down to the courthouse. You had to pass a so-called literacy test. And they would tell people over and over again that they didn’t or couldn’t pass the literacy test. On one occasion, a man was asked to count the number of bubbles on a bar of soap. On another occasion, a man was asked to count the number of jellybeans in a jar. There were African American lawyers, doctors, teachers, housewives, college professors flunking this so-called literacy test. And we had to change that, so we sought to march.
“And we got to the top of the bridge. We saw a sea of blue—Alabama state troopers—and we continued to walk. We came within hearing distance of the state troopers. And a man identified himself and said, ‘I’m Major John Cloud of the Alabama state troopers. This is an unlawful march. It will not be allowed to continue. I give you three minutes to disperse and return to your church.’ And one of the young people walking with me, leading the march, a man by the name of Hosea Williams, who was on the staff of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., said, ‘Major, give us a moment to kneel and pray.’ And the major said, ‘Troopers, advance!’ And you saw these guys putting on their gas masks. They came toward us, beating us with nightsticks and bullwhips, trampling us with horses. I was hit in the head by a state trooper with a nightstick. I had a concussion at the bridge. My legs went out from under me. I felt like I was going to die. I thought I saw Death.”
As some may have guessed, these are the words of beloved late Congressman John Lewis, describing what became known as the brutal “Bloody Sunday” attack at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama, as marchers attempted to peacefully protest for the right to vote. The young man Congressman Lewis mentions as the impetus for the march was 26-year-old Jimmie Lee Jackson, who died after being beaten and shot by state troopers in Marion, Alabama, following another nonviolent protest. He had already tried several times to register to vote, alongside his mother and grandfather, and died without ever being able to exercise that right. In the wake of the Bloody Sunday violence, Rev. James Reeb and Mrs. Viola Liuzzo, two White allies and activists who had both immediately traveled to Alabama to support the follow-up marches for voting rights, were murdered by White supremacists. They are among the many martyrs who were jailed, beaten, terrorized, and killed while fighting to ensure Black citizens and all citizens the right to vote.
In the same interview with Congressman Lewis, when he was asked how he had the courage to keep walking towards the armed troopers, he answered: “On that day, we didn’t have a choice. I think we had been tracked down by what I call the spirit of history, and we couldn’t turn back. We had to go forward. We became like trees planted by the rivers of water. We were anchored. And I thought we would die . . . but somehow, and someway, you have to keep going.” He also added: “That’s why it is so important for people to understand, to know that people suffered, struggled, some people bled, and some died, for the right to participate. You know, the vote is the most powerful nonviolent tool that we have in a democratic society. It’s precious. It’s almost sacred. We have to use it. If not, we will lose it.”
This is a final reminder that in this election and every election, the right to vote remains a powerful, precious, hard-won tool. We must use it.