In the land of Dred Scott.
Freivogel, William H.
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When Michael Brown crashed to the pavement on Aug. 9, he landed on
ground that has a unique role in the nation's centuries-long
struggle over race, justice and law.
This is the land of Elijah Lovejoy, the Missouri Compromise, Dred
Scott, the East St. Louis race riots and some of the nation's most
important legal fights over race. The landmark housing discrimination
cases of Shelley v. Kraemer, Jones v. Mayer and Black Jack began here.
And St. Louis had the nation's biggest, most expensive school
desegregation program.
So it is no surprise that this place is again a metaphor for the
nation's unfinished business involving race.
To understand this city's importance in the national civil
rights movement, one can look back 200 years to the Missouri Compromise,
which tried to barter people's freedom for peace in the union.
Or look back a century to the 1917 East St. Louis race riots when
about 100 blacks were killed, some thrown from a bridge into the
Mississippi River.
Or look back half a century to Percy Green's protest climb up
the Arch, unmasking of the Veiled Prophet and "stall-in" at
McDonnell Douglas Corp., which led to an important legal battle over job
discrimination.
Or 35 years to the creation of the nation's largest, most
costly and most successful inter-district school desegregation plan in
which 13,000 students escaped one-race classrooms and showed higher
graduation and college-going rates.
Or 20 years to the all-out legal crusade fought by then Attorney
General Jay Nixon--on the heels of an equally passionate crusade by his
predecessor John Ashcroft--to eliminate the St. Louis and Kansas City
school desegregation plans. Nixon won a Supreme Court decision bringing
down the curtain desegregation in Kansas City and elsewhere, but he
failed to end St. Louis' program.
Or 17 years to then Sen. John Ashcroft blocking African-American
judge Ronnie White from the federal bench.
Or 750 days to Brown's graduation from unaccredited Normandy
High School where students faced educational chaos created by state
officials.
Or 730 days ago to Brown dying on a street next to a mostly
segregated housing Canfield Green complex, a few miles from the legal
symbols of the nation's fight for housing integration. A short
distance away are Black Jack, the town created to keep out blacks,
Paddock Woods, where Joseph Lee Jones wanted to buy a home and the house
on Labadie that J.D. Shelley wanted to buy, but for a racial covenant
barring sale to blacks.
The ghosts of these struggles--and many more--haunt this city as
St. Louisans today turn to the problems left unsolved.
Yet St. Louis' unique racial history is not entirely one of
failure. Dred Scott won his case in the Old Courthouse in downtown St.
Louis. Civil rights leaders won Shelley v. Kraemer and Jones v. Mayer,
opening up housing to African-Americans. And the St. Louis-St. Louis
County school desegregation program has given generations of white and
black children a chance to meet in school.
RACE, JUSTICE AND LAW
Read the Constitution and there is a shock on the first page--the
three-fifths compromise. Keep reading and you find protection for the
slave trade and the fugitive slave provision.
Thirty years after the Constitution patched over slavery, the
nation tried again with the Missouri Compromise. Missouri was admitted
as a slave state and Maine as a free state. Congress banned slavery in
the portion of the Louisiana Purchase above the southern border of
Missouri.
St. Louis greeted passage, wrote historian Glover Moore, "with
the ringing of bells, firing of canon" and a transparency showing
"a Negro in high spirits, rejoicing that Congress had permitted
slaves to be brought to so fine a land as Missouri."
St. Louis was anti-slavery but people didn't like
abolitionists. Toughs from riverfront saloons chased Elijah P. Lovejoy
out of St. Louis to free soil in Alton, Ill. There, in 1837, a mob
killed him as he tried to protect his newspaper office. The mob threw
the press into the Mississippi.
In 1847 Missouri passed a law making it illegal to teach blacks.
"No persons shall keep or teach any school for the instruction of
mulattos in reading or writing," it read. A few brave teachers took
skiffs into the Mississippi River to evade the law.
One of the slaves living in the St. Louis of that era was Dred
Scott. In 1846 he and his wife Harriet, filed for their freedom arguing
they had become free when a former owner took them to free soil.
In 1850 a Missouri judge ruled in Scott's favor, but the
Missouri Supreme Court ignored its precedents and kept Scott in slavery.
It was worried about the growing power of abolitionists, remarking on
the nation's "dark and fell spirit in relation to
slavery."
In the most infamous decision in the history of the U.S. Supreme
Court, Chief Justice Roger Taney concluded in 1857 that blacks "are
not included and were not intended to be included, under the word
citizens in the Constitution."
"We the people" did not include blacks who are so
"inferior" that they had "no rights which the white man
was bound to respect." The Missouri Compromise was unconstitutional
because Congress had no power to ban slavery in the territories, the
court ruled.
Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas debated the Dred Scott
decision. But it took the deaths of 620,000 Americans to settle the
issue.
Settle the issue of slavery that is. Equality is taking longer.
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FIGHTING FOR A PLACE TO LIVE
In 1916--just before the deadly East St. Louis race riots--St.
Louisans voted by a 3-to-1 margin to pass a segregation ordinance
prohibiting anyone from moving into a block where more than
three-fourths of the residents were of another race.
Supporters said the law was needed "for preserving peace,
preventing conflict and ill feeling between the white and colored races
in the city of St. Louis."
A leaflet with a photo of run-down homes said: "Look at These
Homes Now. An entire block ruined by the Negro invasion.... SAVE YOUR
HOME! VOTE FOR SEGREGATION."
St. Louisans also attached restrictive covenants to home deeds,
preventing sale to blacks. Many trust indentures excluded
"Malays" --along with blacks and Jews--because Malays were
displayed in the 1904 World's Fair in St. Louis.
By the end of World War II, blacks in St. Louis were mostly
segregated within a 417-block area near Fairground Park, partly because
of these restrictive covenants. About 117,000 people lived in an area
where 43,000 had lived three decades earlier.
HOUSE ON LABADIE
J.D. Shelley challenged the covenants when he tried in 1945 to buy
a house at 4600 Labadie that barred sale to "persons not of
Caucasian race." Neighbors Louis and Ethel Kraemer, sought to
enforce the covenant.
George L. Vaughn, a noted African-American lawyer, took
Shelley's case to the U.S. Supreme Court. Vaughn said he
wasn't seeking integration. "Negroes have no desire to live
among the white people," he said. "But we were a people forced
into a ghetto with a resultant artificial scarcity in housing."
In the 1948 decision, Shelley v. Kraemer, the United States Supreme
Court outlawed judicial enforcement of racial covenants. The involvement
of the state courts in enforcing the covenants made this a state action,
not just private discrimination, the court said.
A year later, the city tried to integrate nearby Fairground
swimming pool. Forty black children needed a police escort to leave the
pool in what Life magazine called a "race riot."
The Life story read, "In St. Louis, where the Dred Scott case
was tried, the cause of racial tolerance seemed to be looking up last
week. A negro police judge took office for the first time, and the
Post-Dispatch hired its first Negro reporter. But when the city opened
all of its swimming pools to Negroes on June 21 ... progress stopped....
police had to escort 40 Negro swimmers through a wall of 200 sullen
whites."
The mayor immediately reimposed segregation at the pool. The
city's official report said it had been unfair to call the
disruption a riot.
DISCRIMINATORY FEDERAL POLICIES
Federal housing policies after World War II discriminated against
blacks by subsidizing rapid expansion of all-white suburbs while
building largely segregated public housing projects.
Carr Square was built for blacks and Clinton Peabody for whites.
Pruitt-Igoe, built in the 1950s, was Pruitt for blacks and Igoe for
whites. The project quickly became all black and symbolized the failure
of public housing when it was blown up in the 1970s.
The words--"FHA financed"--in housing ads were code for
blacks need not apply, writes Richard Rothstein in an Economic Policy
Institute report on the root causes of Ferguson.
An FHA underwriting manual called for "protection against some
adverse influences" adding "the more important among the
adverse influential factors are the ingress of undesirable racial or
nationality groups."
The U.S. Civil Rights Commission, which came to St. Louis in 1970,
concluded: "Federal programs of housing and urban development not
only have failed to eliminate the dual housing market, but have had the
effect of perpetuating and promoting it."
NEED FOR A PLAYGROUND
Suburban communities used exclusionary zoning to keep out black
families. Howard Phillip Venable, a noted African-American eye doctor,
was building a house in Creve Coeur in 1956 when the city refused to
grant him a plumbing license.
Suddenly, the city discovered a need for a new park, and condemned
the property for a playground. U.S. District Judge Roy Harper,
notoriously opposed to civil rights, tossed out Venables suit. The park
stands today where the late doctor wanted to live.
A few years later, a black St. Louis bail bondsman had better
success. In 1964, Joseph Lee Jones and his wife, Barbara, applied for a
"Hyde-Park style" house in the Paddock Woods subdivision, five
miles due north of the current Canfield Green apartments in Ferguson.
Alfred H. Mayer Co. refused to sell the home.
Lawyer Sam Liberman took Jones' case to the U.S. Supreme
Court. The Constitution protects "the freedom to buy whatever a
white man can buy, the right to live wherever a white man can
live," wrote the court, adding "when racial discrimination
herds men into ghettos and makes their ability to buy property turn on
the color of their skin, then it ... is a relic of slavery."
Shortly after Jones v. Mayer, the Inter Religious Center for Urban
Affairs planned to build Park View Heights, integrated, subsidized
townhouses in an unincorporated area of north St. Louis County near
Paddock Woods. Local opposition developed in the area that was 99
percent white and residents incorporated as the city of Black Jack. The
new town promptly passed a zoning ordinance that barred construction.
Harper threw out the challenge to this discriminatory zoning. A
federal appeals court overturned the decision.
Judge Gerald Heaney, who was just as famous for his pro-civil
rights decisions as Harper was notorious, wrote that when a law had a
discriminatory effect, the burden is on the city to show it has a
strong, non-discriminatory purpose. Black Jack hadn't.
Although residential racial segregation has declined in St. Louis
and most other cities, St. Louis is the seventh most racially segregated
metropolitan area based on the 2010 census, ranking after other rust
belt cities such as Milwaukee, New York/New Jersey, Chicago, Cleveland
and Buffalo.
Leland Ware, a former St. Louisan and professor at the University
of Delaware, says the 1968 Fair Housing law was largely a
"toothless tiger" with weak enforcement. "Lingering
vestiges of segregation remain in the nations housing markets that
"perpetuate segregated neighborhoods."
NOT A STORY
In the early 1950s, a group of young civil rights activists--Irv
and Maggie Dagen, Charles and Marion Oldham and Norman Seay--led a CORE
sponsored sit-in of lunch counters in segregated downtown St. Louis.
Richard Dudman, a young reporter for the Post-Dispatch, ran across
the protest and hurried back to the office with the big story.
The editors told the future Washington Bureau chief to forget it.
They knew about the protests but weren't writing about them because
it might trigger violence. Avoiding a riot was a preoccupation at the
paper where big glass windows near the presses were boarded up just in
case.
There never was a riot, a fact often cited as a reason St. Louis
never seriously grappled with race.
One reason there was no riot was the Jefferson Bank protests of
1963, the birthplace of that generation's black leaders. William L.
Clay, who went on to Congress, led the sit-in blocking the bank's
doors.
Clay showed that blacks got only a few hundred of the 23,000
downtown jobs at breweries, department stores, banks, insurance
companies and newspapers.
Although Clay and other protesters were arrested, they won about
1,300 new downtown jobs.
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CLIMBING THE ARCH
CORE'S tactics weren't muscular enough for Percy Green,
who started ACTION in 1964, calling for "direct action" to
gain civil rights. He didn't think the Jefferson Bank protesters
had asked for enough jobs and he wanted to show that civil rights
protesters would not be frightened off by the harsh court penalties on
Jefferson Bank protesters.
Green attracted attention by climbing the partially built Gateway
Arch, unmasking of the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan and filing a historic
job discrimination case again McDonnell Douglas.
Green and a white friend climbed one leg of the Arch on July 14,
1964 to demand that 1,000 black workers be hired for the $1 million
construction activity. There were no black workers on the Arch
construction project. He followed up demanding 10 percent of the jobs at
utility companies--Southwestern Bell, Union Electric and Laclede Gas.
"Southwestern Bell had no telephone installers at the
time," he recalled in an interview. "Laclede Gas had no meter
readers.... We managed to expose them to the extent that they had to
start hiring blacks in those areas. I think the first black ...
telephone installer eventually retired as a top-notch official. At the
time the excuse they gave for blacks not being telephone installers....
was they felt that these black men would create problems by going into
white homes. That's what the president of the company said and a
similar excuse was given me by the president of Laclede Gas."
A month after Green's protest at the Arch, McDonnell Douglas
laid him off saying it was part of a workforce reduction. Green thought
the company took the action for his climbing the Arch. ACTION held a
stall-in near McDonnell Douglas to protest. Later, Green sued McDonnell.
He lost, but the test laid out in the case made it easier for people to
prove job discrimination.
In 1972, Green organized the unmasking of the Veiled Prophet. The
Veiled Prophet ball was a relic of the Old South, with St. Louis'
richest leaders in business dressing up in robes that some people
thought looked like Ku Klux Klan as debutantes paraded in evening gowns.
The Veiled Prophet generally was the father who had given the most money
to the cause. His daughter was crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty.
"We realized," Green recalled, "that the chief
executive officers who we had met with about these jobs also was a
member of this organization and we put two and two together. No wonder
these people don't hire blacks because they are socially involved
in these all-white organizations .... (And) they auctioned off their
daughters.... The fact that I used that language was very disturbing to
these people. Here these same chief executive officers, racist in terms
of their employment, they also were sexist in not allowing their females
to live their lives."
In the late 60s, ACTION had its own black VP ball and the black VP
and black queen would try to attend the ball. They would always be
denied admission and arrested.
Then in 1972, a woman from ACTION, the late Gena Scott, lowered
herself to the stage along a cable and umasked Monsanto' executive
vice president Thomas K. Smith. The city's newspapers did not print
Smith's name. After that, the Veiled Prophet took steps to
desegregate, but Green makes it clear that his group wasn't seeking
entry, but rather was trying to pressure top business leaders to provide
more jobs for blacks.
Green was active in an effort to put video cameras in the hands of
citizens a decade ago, thinking that was the only way to get a
conviction of a police officer. When he heard about the death of Michael
Brown, "deep down I felt this was another outright murder and is no
different from what happened before.... They (police) say they fear for
their life, but at no time does a person fear for their life that they
show any indication of taking cover.... They say they fear for my life,
boom, boom, boom."
"None of this is new," says Green. Law enforcement
demonizing black men goes back to slavery, he said. The only way for law
enforcement to gain the confidence of people "is for the
Establishment to charge, convict and put in jail for long periods of
time policemen who murder black folk, black males.... Prosecuting
attorneys should also be jailed for abuse of their authority (for) their
conduct to allow for these policemen to get away with murder and then
these judges who use their benches to justify policemen executing black
males."
SEGREGATED SCHOOLS
Missouri segregated its schools longer than most southern states.
It wasn't until 1976 that Missouri repealed its requirement of
separate schools for "white and colored children."
Segregation applied to the University of Missouri as well. In 1938
the U.S. Supreme Court ordered Mizzou to admit Lloyd L. Gaines to its
law school or to create separate one of equal quality. The state took
the latter option, turning a cosmetology school at black Lincoln
University into a law school. NAACP lawyers planned to challenge the
separate school but Gaines disappeared without a trace on a visit to
Chicago. It was an era when blacks were lynched at Columbia, Maryville
and Sikeston.
Two of Missouri's most prominent politicians over the past 30
years--Ashcroft and Nixon--crusaded as attorneys general against the
big, ambitious school desegregation plans in St. Louis and Kansas City
--the two most expensive in the country.
Minnie Liddell's desire to have her son Craton attend the nice
neighborhood school instead of being bused to a bad neighborhood led,
ironically, to the nation's biggest inter-district voluntary busing
program sending about 14,000 black city students to mostly white
suburban schools.
NAACP lawyer William L. Taylor had pulled together evidence of the
complicity of suburban school districts in segregation. Many suburban
districts had bussed their students to all-black St. Louis high schools.
Kirkwood, for example, bussed its black students to Sumner.
In 1981, a canny judge and former congressman, William Hungate, put
a gun to the head of the suburban districts. Either they would
"voluntarily" agree to the inter-district transfer program or
he would hear all of the evidence of inter-district discrimination and
then order a single metropolitan school district.
That frightened suburban school districts and helped special master
D. Bruce La Pierre, a Washington University law professor, persuade them
to join the voluntary transfer program.
Ashcroft went to the Supreme Court trying to stop the plan, saying
there was nothing voluntary about the court's requirement that the
state pick up the tab--which came to $1.7 billion over the next two
decades.
His opposition to school desegregation helped propel him to the
governor's mansion after a primary in 1984 in which desegregation
was the leading campaign issue. Ashcroft called the desegregation plan
illegal and immoral and paid for a plane to fly leading anti-busing
leaders around the state to attest to his anti-busing bonafides.
NIXON ON SCHOOLHOUSE STEPS
In the fall of 1997, Attorney General Nixon appeared on the steps
of Vashon High School, a crumbling symbol of black pride in St. Louis.
He announced that he would press to end the transfer program and spend
$100 million building new black schools in the city.
Opposition to desegregation did not turn out to be the political
silver bullet that it had been for Ashcroft. Rep. Bill Clay, the
one-time Jefferson Bank protester, convinced President Bill Clinton to
pull out of a fundraiser for Nixon. Sen. Christopher S. Bond won a
record number of votes in the African-American community to defeat Nixon
for the Senate
But Nixon won a big court battle against Kansas City's
desegregation plan. This wasn't the Supreme Court of Brown v.
Board. The lone black justice was not Thurgood Marshall, who had won
Brown, but Clarence Thomas, who had received his legal training
alongside Ashcroft in Missouri.
Justice Marshall had thought segregated classrooms harmed black
children by stigmatizing them as inferior. Thomas had a different idea
of stigma. "It never ceases to amaze me that the courts are so
willing to assume that anything that is predominantly black must be
inferior," he wrote.
Thomas was the deciding vote in the 1995 decision effectively
bringing an end to school desegregation in Kansas City and to
court-ordered desegregation nationwide--but not in St. Louis.
A POLITICAL MIRACLE
In 1998 Attorney General Nixon went to court trying to end the St.
Louis program, but U.S. District Judge George Gunn Jr. wouldn't go
along. Instead, he appointed William Danforth, former chancellor of
Washington University, to find a solution. The result was a settlement,
approved by the Missouri Legislature, to continue the transfer program
indefinitely. This settlement was built on three extraordinary
accomplishments.
First, a coalition of rural and urban legislators in the state
legislature combined to pass a law approving the continuation of the
cross-district transfer program, even though the program had been
politically unpopular in parts of the state.
Second, Danforth brought along the St. Louis business community,
obtaining the support of Civic Progress, St. Louis' most powerful
business leaders. He told leaders the program had worked, resulting in
much higher graduation rates for transferring black students.
Third, taxophobic citizens of St. Louis voted to levy a two-thirds
of a cent tax on themselves.
In announcing the settlement of the case, Danforth called it
"a historic day" for St. Louis. Minnie Liddell, the heroic
mother whose suit had led to the desegregation plan said, "All I
can say is, ' Yay, St. Louis.' This has been a long time
coming, yet we have just begun. I'm glad I lived to see a
settlement in the case."
Liddell's lawyer, Taylor, wrote that St. Louis'
settlement was the best in the nation. And nobody knew better than
Taylor, who had been involved in many of the nation's biggest
school desegregation battles after having served as general counsel of
the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights and then vice chair of The
Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights.
"In many communities around the nation, courts are declaring
an end to judicially supervised school desegregation and to the mandated
subsidies for improved education that are often part of the remedy. But
in St. Louis, the state Legislature has offered a financial package that
will enable educational opportunity programs to continue for 10 years or
more," he said.
"Both from a financial and an educational standpoint, the St.
Louis settlement is the best of any school district in the nation. The
state funding will make possible continuation of the voluntary
inter-district transfer program and the city magnet program. Both of
these programs have enabled African-American city students to complete
high school and go on to college at far greater rates than they have in
the past."
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch editorial was headlined "Voting
for a Miracle."
"This feat makes us the first place in the nation where the
democratic institutions of government found a way to preserve the gains
of the era of desegregation while making it possible to improve the
education of all children. Imagine. This happened in Missouri."
Today, 17 years later, the transfer program continues to exist,
although it involves fewer students.
MICHAEL BROWN'S SCHOOL
The desegregation program didn't desegregate public schools
around Ferguson. The districts in the Ferguson area--Ferguson-Florissant
and Normandy--became increasingly segregated.
Brown's school, Normandy, is and was a failed district. State
politicians and education officials have only contributed to its failure
with chaotic decisions.
The state declared Normandy unaccredited in 2012 allowing its
students to transfer to other school districts at Normandy's
expense.
Some suburban districts balked at accepting them, an echo of the
qualms of some suburban districts when the city-county desegregation
plan began 30 years earlier.
When Normandy students tried to transfer again in the summer of
2015, state education officials tried to block most transfers only to be
overridden by the court.
The Missouri Legislature passed a bill to help out the district--by
then broke and the worst performing district in the state--but Nixon
vetoed the bill because a school choice provision.
Meanwhile, the state displaced the Normandy school board and
appointed the Normandy Schools Collaborative to take over. That group
decided to hire temps from Kelly Services as substitute teachers.
Two hours after the announcement of the grand jury decision on Nov.
24, Michael A. Wolff, dean of the Saint Louis University law school, was
asked on St. Louis On the Air--the radio program at St. Louis Public
Radio--to explain the reaction in Ferguson.
"This particular incident and the reaction to it has built up
on a whole lot of things people have grievances over.... The lives of
the young people in our community particularly where Michael Brown lived
and died were really impacted by some serious structural problems. For
example, when (Normandy) failed and lost accreditation and some of the
students could be allowed to transfer to other districts, some of the
school districts told them we don't want those kids.
"We have set up the system to be treating people unequally....
Why are the school systems in that part of the community so underfunded
compared to the ones you and I send our kids to?"
As Wolff spoke, the TV monitors in the radio studio showed the
businesses of Ferguson going up in flames.