Vote? Who me? Why should I vote? Wow! You are educated but less informed than I thought

Article 2 Volume 5  (Originally published September 14, 2014)

Part 1

Many Sacrifices were made in Suffolk for the  right to vote 

Now, when we go to the polls it is such an easy process to vote. People greet you, smile, offer you a cup of coffee, and thank you for participating.

It was not always that simple and easy for the Afro-Americans in Suffolk to go to the polls and vote.

I remember Moses Riddick and some others who fought a vigilant fight just for the Blacks to be able to go to the polls.

In East Suffolk High and I believe Booker T. Washington High, voting was a non-issue subject.

I mean we just did not talk about it. I was an A student in civics, but discussing our rights to vote in city, county, state, or federal elections was never discussed.

Looking back, I believe teachers were not allowed to talk and teach about civil rights issues.

In high school, I was a member of the NAACP youth group, under the leadership of Rayfield Vines. We met in Union Hall. Seemingly, most of our members were students at Booker T. We could talk at the meetings but could not take our agenda back to the classroom.                                                          

After military service, in the fall of 1963, I woke up one morning, looked at my military ID and accomplishments, and just let a spirit get a hold of me, and take me to city hall to register to vote. I felt good about my chances.  

As I walked in the door, I was greeted politely, led to a desk, and asked to pay a poll tax of $3.00. Wow, this is going good, I mused.  After about 20 minutes of waiting a clerk came looked and greeted me and confirmed that I was a Negro. ( this was before the Afro-American designation was used) Then after two minutes, she left the room.

About ten minutes later, two deputy sheriffs came and stood at the door.

About fifteen minutes later, I started to get a little nervous.  I'm wondering what is going on and why did I come here by myself. Maybe, I should have called Moses Riddick or the NAACP and told them of my plans. I mean, I just got out of the Army.  Some of my best friends were white. So, I said to myself everything is going to be all right.

After another ten minutes of waiting, a 300-plus-pound, white man, with big round eyeglasses, and a cigar in his mouth came in and sat across from me, blew some smoke in my face, and quickly apologized.  He introduced himself as Mr. Columbus. He asked the clerk to bring in the book.  I'm thinking of a registration book. It was a 400-page book that included the Constitution of the United States. 

He asked me to study the book for 5 minutes and he would return.

After 5 minutes, he came back into the room.  After a few words, he asked me to recite two pages of the Constitution, from memory and name all the Presidents of the United States before the year 1800.

Before I even started, I told him I could not fulfill his request.  

Mr. Columbus told me that he was sorry, but he could not register me to vote.  He thanked me for my military service and wished me well.  I was escorted out by the two deputies who were waiting at the door.  

I was happy to hit the street.  But I could not help, but think, "Military veteran or not, things have not changed for me in this city."

Part 2 (to be continued) (will be re-published on August 9, 2024

I will explain why you are still a Negro if you do not register and vote.

Copyright 2024 Grady E. Bryant, Sr. All Rights Reserved..