A Glorious Day

The proof that one truly believes is in action.

~Bayard Rustin

Everyone I knew was at the March on Washington. If they didn't actually physically go, they watched with me from afar in front of their television. The whole thing.

On the morning of that 28th day in August, no one had any idea how successful this much-anticipated event would turn out. An estimated 250,000 people arrived by plane, train, bus, cars and by foot for a peaceful demonstration to promote Civil Rights and economic equality for African Americans. Participants walked down Constitution and Independence avenues, then — 100 years after the Emancipation Proclamation was signed — gathered before the Lincoln Monument for speeches, songs, and prayer. It was a diverse crowd: black and white, rich and poor, young and old, Hollywood celebrities and ordinary people.

The whole event was televised live to an audience of millions. The march provided quite a few dramatic moments, culminating in Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s most memorable "I Have a Dream" speech. That was truly the most iconic moment of the day's event.

All of us spectators marveled at the serenity and smoothness for hours as the crowd assembled and never appeared restive despite the length of the event. There were lots of negative predictions such as stampedes, violence, injuries, and vandalism. Fears of rioting that had prompted extraordinary precautions including pre-signed executive orders authorizing military intervention. In spite of many expectations and doubts to the contrary, peace and orderliness were to prevail.

In fact, maintaining the peacefulness of assembly was only part of the task facing the organizers of the March. In addition to the logistics, the event had to contend with the serious internal political differences of the "civil rights movement". Leaders of the various groups sponsoring the March were referred in the press as "the big six":

• A. Philip Randolph, international president of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, president of the Negro American Labor Council, and vice president of the AFL-CIO;
• Whitney Young, President of the National Urban League (NUL);
• Roy Wilkins, President of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP);
• James Farmer, President of the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE); John Lewis, President of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC);
• Martin Luther King Jr. founder and President of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC).

I saw it as a generational cleavage between the old and the new: Sleeping Car Porters, AFL-CIO, Urban League, and the NAACP represented the well-established and better-funded echelons of the consolidated group; CORE, SNCC and SCLC represented the varsity flesh and blood of the movement. The elder statesmen focused on jobs. The ranks and file of these radical nonviolent demonstrators knew where the rubber hit the road in the fight against Jim Crow segregation and discrimination, north and south. Well, actually, now that I think about it, SNCC was not actually all that non-violent - after H. Rap Brown took over the reins, anyways.

As I said, I began watching as soon as the network TV coverage began. I especially recall a poignant moment in the early going which I have never since seen commented upon or recorded.

The crowd of people were still a far piece from assembling. On the lower steps of the Monument reporters with their microphones were button-holing each other and various newsworthy political figures. At one point, One of my long-time, but unsung movement heroes, Bayard Rustin was asked a question: something innocuous and stupid, like what did he think?

He answered it, actually. There followed another question, asked and answered. Other questions followed, the answers grew in length as the questions displayed increased maturity and intelligence. Rustin was standing there on the lower steps, a sheaf of papers under his arm, but the microphones thrust in front of him became so numerous it actually seemed he had a podium. His voice rose and fell as answers gave way to unrestrained oratory. A small crowd of onlookers had grouped around the reporters. For me, as a long-time admirer of Rustin, this was a magical moment. Eventually, Rustin broke it off, because he had people to see, etc. As he moved off up the steps, a spontaneous applause followed him from the sizable crowd who had assembled. Anyone (and there were many) in the TV audience who hadn't had an inkling as to what all of this civil rights hubbub was all about, now was aboard. As Rustin had explained, all credit for mobilizing the March on Washington could go to "Bull Connor, his police dogs, and his fire hoses."

Although Rustin didn't appear on the program, he did appear immediately before Dr. King and brought the crowd out of its fatigue from too many previous speeches and on to its feet. I still can hear his litany of "We Demand"!

I didn't fully understand until after the March on Washington was over, that Rustin had been its chief organizer and orchestrator. Operating out of a tiny office in Harlem, Rustin and his staff had only two months to plan this massive and unprecedented mobilization. Just to provide myself a point for future reference, I'm inclined to include a short Rustin biography in these pages.

The decorum maintained by this March on Washington had an obvious impact, both on the passage of civil rights legislation and on nationwide public opinion. It proved the power of mass appeal and inspired imitators in the anti war, feminist, and environmental movements with a model. Unexceptionally non-violent in word and deed, it would be followed with less unity and more violence. Somewhat.