The Racist History Behind The Iconic Selma Bridge
The 1965 voting rights march from Selma to Montgomery, Ala., became known as Bloody Sunday because it ended in state troopers beating nonviolent protesters as they tried to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge.
In photos from that day you see the marchers being struck and trampled, and just above them are the bridge's big arches, with the name Edmund Pettus emblazoned across the steel beam.
The bridge has become one of the most hallowed places in America's civil rights history, but who was Edmund Pettus?
"Pettus was the head of the most notorious white terrorist group in Alabama probably up until the civil rights movement," says John Giggie, who teaches Southern history at the University of Alabama.
Aside from being a two-term U.S. senator and a Confederate general, Pettus was a Grand Dragon of the Alabama Ku Klux Klan. When legislators decided to name the bridge after him in 1940, Giggie says there's no mistaking the message they wanted to send — especially given that the bridge, the gateway to Selma, was a huge engineering improvement over the previous one, an old swing bridge that had to be opened by hand.
In this March 21, 1965, photo, civil rights marchers cross the Alabama River on the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala., toward the state capital of Montgomery.
"They wanted to stamp that — to brand it — with this vision of the South as very much as a ... a world dedicated to white supremacy," says Giggie.
It's something anyone alive here in the '40s or '60s would have known, but not necessarily Selma's younger citizens today.
Jack Townes, 21, who's lived here his whole life, had no idea until recently.
"It came up and I was like, wait, 'Edmund Pettus? That was him?' ... 'I pass by that bridge every day, that's impossible!' " he says. "So I Googled it myself and that's what I — that's what I found out."
Townes is part of a local activist group that wants to rename the bridge. But for those who lived here through the '60s — black and white — it's not that straightforward.
"The Edmund Pettus Bridge has been there my entire life, and I'm 70 years old — that is part of history, not only in Selma but all over!" says Norma Lawrence. "Keep things as a reminder of the bad. If you change them, then you forget them — you forget the bad."
Selma is anything but a city that wants to forget. It's hard to throw a rock here without hitting a plaque to something, though most commemorate the Battle of Selma during the Civil War.
But it's the bridge that's unique. It's the only marker that has gone from honoring white supremacy to becoming a great monument to racial equality.
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Transcript
ROBERT SIEGEL, HOST:
This month, we're remembering the 1965 Voting Rights marches. The first of those ended with state troopers beating nonviolent protesters - a day that became known as Bloody Sunday. The demonstrators were trying to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge as they marched from Selma, Ala. to Montgomery. Photographs from that day show people being attacked and trampled. Among them - the name above them, rather - the name Edmund Pettus is emblazoned across a steel beam. Who was Edmund Pettus? Well, Melanie Peeples sent this report from Selma.
MELANIE PEEPLES, BYLINE: When you talk about civil rights, it's always the Edmund Pettus Bridge, not the Selma Bridge or the Highway 80 Bridge, but the Edmund Pettus Bridge. It arches up in the middle so as you walk across it, you can't see what's on the other side. But you can't miss the name in black uppercase letters overhead. About 100 steps in, you can see rust stains dripping down from those letters like brown tears. But the man for whom this bridge was named would not have cried over what happened here 50 years ago. John Giggie teaches history at the University of Alabama.
JOHN GIGGIE: Pettus was the head of the most notorious white terrorist group in Alabama, probably up until the civil rights movement.
PEEPLES: That's right. Aside from being a two- term U.S. Senator and Confederate general, Edmund Pettus was a Grand Dragon of the Alabama Ku Klux Klan. And when legislators decided to name the bridge after him back in 1940, Giggie says there's no mistaking the message they wanted to send, especially since the bridge, the gateway to Selma, was a huge engineering improvement over the previous one, which was an old swing bridge that had to be opened by hand.
GIGGIE: They wanted to stamp that - to brand it - with this vision of the South as very much a world dedicated to white supremacy.
PEEPLES: It's something Giggie says anyone alive here in the 1940s or '60s would have known, but not necessarily Selma's younger citizens today. Twenty-one-year-old Jack Townes, who's lived here his whole life, had no idea until recently.
JACK TOWNES: It came up and I was like, wait, Edmund Pettus? That was him? You know, and I was like, I pass by that bridge every day. That's impossible! So I Googled it myself and that's what I - that's what I found out.
PEEPLES: The idea that all his life the name of a Klansman has rolled right off his tongue so easily without ever knowing it just doesn't sit well with him.
TOWNES: It's just not something I would want to say - not something I would want coming out of my mouth often.
PEEPLES: Townes is part of a local activist group that wants to rename the bridge. But for those who lived here through the 1960s - black and white - it's not that straightforward. Just a block and a half from the bridge in dusty downtown Selma is the Washington Street Super Market. It's got long wooden benches out front just begging people to stop and sit a while.
NORMA LAWRENCE: Hey, D (PH).
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: How you doing?
LAWRENCE: Alright, how you doing?
PEEPLES: Walking up the street for lunch, Norma Lawrence stops for just a minute to give her opinion.
LAWRENCE: The Edmund Pettus Bridge has been there my entire life and I'm 70 years old. That is part of history, not only in Selma, but all over.
PEEPLES: But it's not nostalgia that has Lawrence, who's white, bristling at the proposed name change.
LAWRENCE: Keep things as a reminder of the bad. If you change them, then you forget them. You forget the bad.
PEEPLES: Selma is anything but a city that wants to forget. It's hard to throw a rock here without hitting a plaque to something, though most commemorate the Battle of Selma during the Civil War. But it's the bridge that's unique. It's the only marker that's gone from honoring white supremacy to becoming the greatest monument to racial equality. It spans not just Selma's history, but that of the entire nation. For NPR News, I'm Melanie Peeples. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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