00:00:00WRIGHT: --Louisville, and how they were fighting segregation, people
00:01:00like Reverend Frank, and William Stewart--
JOHNSON: --yeah--
WRIGHT: --and Simmons, and Parrish--
JOHNSON: --Parrish, right--
WRIGHT: --and all those people. And this time, I was thinking that, uh, what
would interest me is to--I would like for you to talk about civil rights in
Louisville, and since the 1930s, the changes that you and other people have
brang about, like in politics and in education, and things like that. And
I've--I've been reading the newspaper some, and I've seen where you all did some
things, were equalizing teachers' salaries, and, uh--and then I'm familiar with
most of your achievements. But I want you to just talk about them some. And
also, another thing, after you do that, I'd like for you to tell me who some of
the white people here in Louisville who have been active in civil rights,
and--and also, if you can--if you can think of any white people, tell me some
who have been against civil rights in Louisville. So--but I'd rather start off
with what-- what blacks have done in Louisville since then, in
00:02:00politics, and education, and so on.
JOHNSON: In the--in the late twenties--'28, I would say, 1928, '29--there was a
movement here in the city to upgrade several of the white schools, white public
schools. And they wanted to float a bond issue in order to get the money to
either build or make additions to, or make rather extensive remodeling, of
several of the white schools. The bond issue failed, because the Catholics had
their own schools, and they didn't vote for it, and the Negroes
00:03:00teamed up with the Catholics, and the rather affluent people who already sent
their kids to private schools. The Negroes said, "If you don't have anything for
us, we won't vote for it, either." So the bond issue failed.
About two years later, which brings you down to about 1930, they started another
bond issue. And this time, they knew that the private school segment would not
vote for it. They knew the Catholics would not vote for it. But if they could
get the Negroes to vote for it, uh, it would pass. When they came to our Negro
leaders, they said, "What do we get out of it?" And they said, "What
00:04:00do you want?" They said, "We want two junior high schools. They had a junior
high school for whites, and now you're going to build more schools for whites.
Build us a junior high school on the east end of town and on the west end." And
they said, "If you'll vote for the bond issue, we will guaran--we will put it
in." The bond issue carried, and they came through with two--in those days,
rather up-to-date--um, uh, junior high schools. One was Parkland--no, pardon me.
One was, uh, Eastern. Over on the east end, uh, was what we called, at that
time, Jackson Street Junior High School, and the one on the west end was what we
called Madison Street Junior High School. Madison had its name
00:05:00changed to Russell Junior High in the, um, uh, fifties. And, uh, uh, Jackson had
its name changed to Meyzeek. We have Meyzeek now. Uh, Russell was discontinued
last year.
Well, but the point is, in the late thirties, they wanted a bond issue. Didn't
include Negroes. Negro leaders froze up on--on the thing, and in concert with
two other segments, defeated the bond issue. Two years later, they put the--put,
uh, these two junior high schools in for Negroes, and the bond issue carried.
They started a bond issue in the thirties, early thirties, perhaps in '30--they
wanted to, uh, do the same sort of remodeling out at the University
00:06:00of Louisville. University of Louisville did not admit Negroes. And, uh, they
were so afraid that the Negroes could do the same thing they did on the public
school bond issue two years earlier. So they came around to the Negroes and
said, "Will you vote for this?" And they said, "Why should we? Our children
don't--don't--don't go to the U of L." They said, "Yes, but, uh, if you will--if
you will go along with us, why, we'll build you a college." Now, the state law,
see, they s--they--they hid behind the state law, which said--it was known as
the Day Law. They hid behind the Day Law, which said, uh, the races should not
be taught in the same classrooms together. So, uh, they, uh, uh,
00:07:00promised the Negroes that they would build them a college. It would be a part of
the University of Louisville, but on a separate campus. Separate. Supposed to
be, but equal. Of course, it wasn't equal, but, uh, at least it was better than
no college at all. So in 1931, they opened up what they called Louisville
Municipal College. And that operated from '31 until '50.
WRIGHT: Um-hm.
JOHNSON: Louisville Municipal College. When it was in operation, its, uh,
accreditation was on level with Fisk and schools of that, uh, bunch, Knoxville
College, and Virginia Union, uh, Morehouse College. Louisville
Municipal--Louisville Municipal College was the result--was the fruit
00:08:00of the Negroes using their political skill to, uh, hammer out the--the--the
sharing of the money that was--would ordinarily have gone to the University of
Louisville for whites. Well, uh, that showed that they were using political, uh,
power to good advantage. Now, they tried any number of other things, but the
Depression came on, and, uh, it was almost, uh, uh, you know, uh, uh, a serious
undertaking just to stay alive, much less campaign for anything. Everybody
was-- was being turned off. During the thirties, uh, it--it--it was a
00:09:00rough time. And, uh, hardly much advance was made, because there was recession
all around you during the thirties. But then, opening up, uh, in '38, the
Negroes started to push for equalization of teachers' salaries. Did we talk
about that last time?
WRIGHT: No, we didn't.
JOHNSON: In 19--1937, there were--there was quite a bit of rumbling in the
teaching, uh, uh, groups, circles. Why should Negro teachers get less pay than
whites? Thirty-seven, we had the Negro teachers, uh, uh,
00:10:00organization, uh, Louisville Teachers Association, to propose that we do
something about it. Thirty-seven passed by, and nothing was done. Thirty-eight
came, and in '38, uh, more agitation on the part of some of the fire eaters in
the teaching circles started putting pressure on the officers of this, uh,
teachers association, to make some effort to eliminate the differential. The,
uh, uh--I'll have to, uh, throw in a little something about myself here. And
not--not that I want to overdo me, but I was a young teacher in those
00:11:00days, and I had come from out of town. In 1939, we still hadn't done anything
about this, uh, and the president of the association was too conservative--I
won't say he was an Uncle Tom, but he was--he--he was not going to rock the
boat. He had a family, and, uh, he had, uh, a fairly good position, and he tried
to stymie any move. But the move was getting bolder and bolder, so this man,
instead of channeling, giving leadership to the movement, right in the middle of
a term of office, he called for the election of officers. And he said
00:12:00he was resigning, because they were putting pressure on him to make him, uh, uh,
take the leadership of this movement against the board of education. He said
that he thought it was ill advised. And when they, uh, insisted, then, rather
than to kick in, he called for the reelection of officers, and especially a
president. And he had canvassed the other officers, and they had agreed with him
that we should not press the board of education too hard. It might get us all
fired. So the other, uh, officers agreed with the president to call
00:13:00for new elections. And if those people who wanted to press were so insistent,
let them be the ones to be elected to--to office.
WRIGHT: Um-hm.
JOHNSON: As I say, I was a young fellow then. I'd been in--in the teaching force
here about five or six years. And, uh, from out of town. And had come here
during the--the Depression. My roots were not deep. It was dangerous for me to
say anything, just--just open my mouth. Why, even the--the blacks in town who
didn't have jobs were jealous of the fact that I had come from out of town and
gotten one. Even they would like to see me lose my job so they could have--have
it. But they nominated one person to be the, uh, president, and he declined.
"No, no, no. It's too touchy ----------(??)----------." And they nominated a
second. They nominated a third. They nominated a fourth. They
00:14:00nominated a fifth. When they nominated the sixth person, and he declined, I
stood up on the floor and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, whenever a bunch of
officers--um, no--whenever a bunch of people, schoolteachers, finds that no one
wants to be president of the group, then it's time for that organization to
disband. And I therefore move that we disband. And with the--if the motion
carries, of course, we will adjourn. And I want to go home and eat. I'm tired.
I've been here all--all--all day." But, well, they chided me by saying, uh,
"Well, if you--if you are all that, uh, insistent that somebody be president, we
nominate you." Well, then I couldn't decline. That's how I got to be
00:15:00president. And I was elected president. We put in a suit against the board of
education. We found--we did not know when we started how much we were being
paid, but we did know that we were being shortchanged. And, uh, we put in our
suit. In 1939, we started. We had to wait until we were ready to go in court
before we could tell who the plaintiff would be. Before we could go into court,
we had to raise one teacher's salary, put it in the bank, in escrow. Should she
lose her job, she'd get at least one year's pay while she looked for another
place. In addition to that, we had to raise more than that teacher's
00:16:00pay to pay court costs and other incidentals for the suit. It was very difficult
raising that money, because we had to raise it from among people who were afraid
that they'd get fired if they--if any--if the board knew--
WRIGHT: --um-hm--
JOHNSON: --who had contributed. But I had a little group of seventeen who stood
with me through thick and thin for three years, and raised the money for both
the--for both, uh, uh, ideas, salary and court costs. We won the case. Won it
out of court. Didn't need all the money. Contributed to educational procedures
to work out other situations. We found that there was a 15 percent differential.
In our statement of, um--in our brief, we had made a study, and we
00:17:00presented as evidence, that the Negro teachers who had master's degrees--and
there was a larger proportion of Negro teachers with master's degrees than there
were white, and the master's degrees the Negroes had were from such schools as
Indiana, Michigan, Ohio State, Columbia, Harvard, and Yale. And the master's
that these other people had were some--such southern second-rate universities,
that the universities we came from didn't recognize the universities they came
from. First, a larger percentage had degrees. Second, a larger, uh,
uh--the--the--the--the universities from which those more degrees came from were
more prestigious, if not more thorough, universities. They were
00:18:00supposed to be more thorough. We found we were being paid 15 percent less. We
won the--won the pay. Nobody lost their salary. And then we moved on to other
things. Um, of course, that gets us into--I--I'm--being a--a school person
myself, I--I--I stick to the educational field, but, uh--
WRIGHT: --well, I--I don't mind that, except, how did that guy, Charles
Anderson, get elected in '36? Tell me about that, and then we can go on to--back
to education.
JOHNSON: Charles Anderson. Charles Anderson, uh, was a very articulate, as well
as a very intelligent, young man. And he lived--he lived right in a
00:19:00Negro, uh, residential area, which was his, uh, uh, legislative district. And
for any white person to run against him was--it was almost silly. He had a gift
of gab. He knew how to--how to meet John Doe out on the street, uh,
and--and--and call him by name, and shake hands with him. Even the wine--the
wine guys, and the--you know, and whoever's the sophisticated people. He was
a--he was--he--he knew how to politic. He did a good job, and, uh,
the-- about three things. He was intelligent, he was a manipulator, he
00:20:00was a fellow who knew how to meet the public, and the fourth thing, he was a
black man in a black community, and it went over big. It was quite interesting
that for several terms in the legislature, he was the only Republican who got
elected. When there'd be a sweep, a landslide, all through, uh, Franklin D.
Roosevelt's, uh, Democratic, uh, landslide years, he--he--he would--he would be
elected as a--as a Republican. He was a very good fellow, very good fellow, and
he took advantage of the--of the thing. The winds blew in his direction, and he
capitalized on it. That's Anderson-- Charlie Anderson.
00:21:00
WRIGHT: Hmm--------(??). Well, now, I tell you, you--you've mentioned something
I just--that almost made me just jump up, wh--when you was talking about the
educational background of the Negro teachers here in Louisville. And it--and I
know that you reacted rather vehemently to Omer Carmichael mentioning--you know,
trying to say that Negro teachers were inferior. How did you look upon someone
like him? And, you know, the whole desegregation movement.
JOHNSON: Well, we--we--we--we were angry about it, and still had to work under
him. We were angry about it, because up until that ti--up until he made his
statement, the principals had it going their way. They could get
00:22:00along with the superintendent by doing his bidding, and then he became--the
principals became, uh, rough taskmasters. And liberalism had no place down in
the--in the ranks of teachers, because they were under these lieutenants, Negro
lieutenants, uh, uh, principals, who, in many cases, had their salaries double
that of the teachers. They were being paid better salaries. Now, they were not
paid on level with the white principals, but they were paid so much better than
the Negro teacher that, uh, it made it difficult for the Negro
00:23:00teacher to speak out. Now, when Carmichael came along with his, uh, uh,
statement that the Negro teacher was not competent to teach white children, the
principals smarted under that, because, uh, by implication, they were--[phone
rings]--not competent to be s--uh, principals with white kids in their
classes--[phone rings]--in their schools. Let's see.
[Pause in recording.]
JOHNSON: I've got some other fish to fry.
WRIGHT: Okay.
JOHNSON: Now--
WRIGHT: --uh, who--who do y--through--throughout your years of working in--can
you tell me some of the whites that were involved in civil rights, and--
JOHNSON: Yeah. There was a Pat Kirwan, Pat--Patrick Kirwan. He was a
00:24:00very fine fellow. He taught school. He gave up his job to be a, uh--[chime]--he
gave up his job at the--in the high school, where he also was, uh, an assistant
coach of football, for which he got, uh, uh, an extra, uh, handout. He gave up
that job to become the state organi--organizer for the American Federation of
Teachers. -----(??)----- teachers union. He thought that he could work up
sufficient memberships across the state, and also--especially here in
Louisville, to, uh, justify, uh, uh, a paid and full-time, uh, worker,
organizer. That didn't materialize. But after he had--the first year
00:25:00on the job, several of us got together and, uh, campaigned, promoted, and got
elected, three liberal people to the board of education. Three out of five--out
of a board of five. Now, we elected, uh, these three liberals, and Pat Kirwan
was one of them. And he was so liberal on the board that, uh, he began to have
the establishment close in on him. And, uh, almost every avenue of, uh, of
contact in the community was gradually closed. The doors were just
00:26:00slammed in his face. Actually, he--he turned out to be a man almost without a
country. They stigmatized him as--as a Communist. Uh, he--he just lost--lost all
standing. And as I said, the job didn't materialize, and that left him
on--on--on the rocks, broke. And he went almost into bad health. He just, uh,
was bewailing his--his situation. But he was on the board for four years, and
during those four years that he served on the board, many a day he went up there
and he hadn't had anything to eat all day. Many a time--many a times, uh, uh,
his clothes were so, uh, disheveled, uh, that, uh, it was almost a
00:27:00disgrace. But he was just dogged enough to just keep his head above the tide and
just go right down the line. He was for thorough education. He was for more
money for education. He was for equal and fair treatment for black ----------(??).
WRIGHT: What was his years on the board?
JOHNSON: Uh, I guess, uh, '48 to '52.
WRIGHT: Yeah.
JOHNSON: After many years passed by, and finally, the board of education, sort
of, passed the word along to some of his friends that if would just, kind of,
straighten up, come out of his stupor, and, uh, and--and go back into the
classroom, they'd give him a job. And they did. They sent him to one of the
best, uh, um, one of the best high schools we have in the city, uh,
00:28:00Atherton High School, to teach English. He was a marvelous English teacher. But
I think in his health that he was just about shot.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: And, uh, he finally died, uh, oh, I guess, uh, about a couple of years.
But they did allow him to come back into respectability.
WRIGHT: Um-hm.
JOHNSON: But he paid a terrible price for his, uh, liberalism, and, uh, it is
regrettable. And I don't think--I don't think we should forget him. Uh, there
was another fellow who paid the, uh, uh, uh, uh, price just to--just as much,
and that was Carl Braden.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: Now, Carl Braden is known as a Communist. But, uh, under--even under
the, uh, stigma of being Communist, he did so many good things for
00:29:00the poor people that, uh, he was in poor standing with the establishment. At one
time, they even, uh, prosecuted him as being a--a Communist who stirred up race
strife, and, uh, had him sent to--for a fifteen-year sentence in the state
penitentiary, uh, for treason. He got out by some fluke of the law. Uh, some,
uh, federal case had been tried over in Pennsylvania, where a state had
prosecuted a person for treason, and he appealed to the federal court, and the
federal court said, "Treason is an act against the country, and the
00:30:00state is not a country."
WRIGHT: Hmm. Hmm.
JOHNSON: A state is a commonwealth.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: It is a subdivision of a country, and therefore, a subdivision doesn't
have the authority to punish a person who wants to wreck the country. That's the
country's business.
WRIGHT: Um-hm.
JOHNSON: So they let the man out there, and had--and then, uh, when--when, uh,
Braden, uh, had his case, uh, brought up, uh, they had to turn him loose.
WRIGHT: Um-hm.
JOHNSON: But they--he had actually begun--he'd served about two months of his,
um, fifteen-year sentence, maybe--maybe, uh, four months. Carl Braden. He
finally, uh, died about two years ago, and still died under the stigma of, uh,
being a Communist, a--a Red, uh, a fellow who ought to be driven out
00:31:00of the country. Just run him out any way we can. He couldn't get a job, anyway.
Uh, he, uh--no respectable job around here. And so he became a professional
agitator. Now, they--they are the two extremes, um. Pat Kirwan didn't go quite
as far to the left as Carl Braden. Carl's wife is still around, Anne Braden, and
she is still hounded by all of the conservative people. And the--the liberal
people who are not yet tagged are afraid to associate with Anne for fear, by
association they'll be, uh, considered guilty, too.
Um--(clears throat)--I would say that, uh, one of the most outspoken
00:32:00liberals who has stayed inside the track and has become one of our most
illustrious citizens in this community is, um, Arthur Kling, a Jew. Arthur Kling
has stood for fair treatment for all people for a long time. He's about
seventy-five years, seventy-six or seventy-seven now, and is very active. But
he's trying to--trying to, um, pull back into the background and let, uh, other
people, younger people, carry on. But Arthur Kling is one. I would say that, uh,
Barry Bingham of the Courier-Journal--uh, now I get into the--the--the rich
people. Incidentally, this Mr. Kling, uh, ran a, uh, chemical, uh,
00:33:00plant, right there, several blocks from right where we are now. And--and he got,
uh--with all his liberalism and, uh, his outspoken, uh, uh, campaigns, uh,
he--he didn't get rich, but, uh, he got well-heeled. And he uses his money very
freely to help all kind of causes. He gives money to the NAACP. He gives money
to the Urban League. And, uh, several times when I'd be trying to carry on some
project, uh, for, uh, removal of, uh, discrimination, he would call me up and
give me advice on how to do it, how he would do it, and what he would like to
see me do, and, uh, also would, uh, send a check in regularly, a
00:34:00sizable check to help pay the expenses of the thing. Now, I say, Barry Bingham,
uh, is, uh, the publisher of the Louisville, uh, Courier-Journal and Times. And
he takes a beating. When one of his, uh--one of the members of his editorial
staff writes, uh, a rather liberal article, uh, the hate people start their mail
and other means of communication, and they wish they could just chew up Mr.
Bingham, but Mr. Bingham is fixed. He's so rich that, uh, nobody's going to
tamper with the Courier-Journal. He's got enough money stashed away in a war
chest to--to--to fight any--any competition. So he just sits back and just
----------(??)----------, and--and, uh, just enjoys having a liberal
00:35:00newspaper. And he--he--he has his editorial staff to understand that the policy
of the paper is to be liberal. But, uh, you write your own editorials with the
liberal content.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: Now, in the other sections of the paper, uh, he allows--I mean, the
staff, the editorial staff, allows for rather factual statement of news
articles. But when you get on that editorial page, he has, uh--he ha--if he--if
he didn't write the editorials, he allowed the editorial staff to give the
governor, and the mayor, and the county judge hell, and the chief of
00:36:00police, and any of the rest of them. He will give the establishment hell
whenever, uh, there is obvious and gross discrimination.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: Either on, uh, race, or sex, or religion.
WRIGHT: Hmm. And I know you've got to be going, so I've got one other thing. Uh,
last time I was here, you talked about some really strong men that were leaders
in the earlier period, John Frank, Parrish, Meyzeek, and all those kind of
people. Since World War II, besides yourself, who do you consider to be some of
these people who have been--men or women, who have been--
JOHNSON: --yeah. Rufus Stout. Rufus Stout is dead now, but he--he--he was a
powerful fellow around this town. He was a schoolteacher. He didn't see that he
was getting, uh, quite as much accomplished as he wanted to accomplish. He
helped me back in the suit against, uh, the board of education for
00:37:00equal salaries. He helped me in the suit against, uh, the University of
Kentucky. He was, uh, in my brain trust. When I say he helped me, he--he would
meet regularly with me and--and--and my group. Uh, Rufus Stout. Uh, he was the,
uh, chairman of the, uh, Negro YMCA here for many years. He gave good leadership
to that. Uh, he was--uh, when he leave--left the schoolroom, he became the, uh,
uh, personnel agent for one of the big corporations here. Tube Turns, I think it
was. And, uh--no. National Carbide.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: He became the, uh, personnel director. They--they were
00:38:00taking on a bunch of Negroes and, uh, Negroes, uh, needed quite a bit of
counseling to get them to--to come to work on time, and put in a good day's
work, and take a few slights here and there, and--and--and, uh, measure up to
their, uh, capabilities. He turned out to be such a good personnel director that
he finally became not only the personnel director for Negroes, but he took on
personnel work as one of three personnel people, and he began to just take, uh,
the, uh, uh, people who needed counseling as they came, regardless of race.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: And, uh, really, before he ended up his career there, uh, he was just
about head of his department.
00:39:00
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: Personnel department. And he was a professor, um, uh, part-time
professor at the University of Louisville, teaching, uh, counseling and guidance--
WRIGHT: --um-hm--
JOHNSON: --for personnel--uh, prospective personnel directors. Uh, Rufus Stout.
Yeah. Now, um, there's a man named, uh--(pause)--McAlpin. Uh, I was trying to
think of his first name. Harry S. McAlpin. He wasn't here long. He was an
attorney, and he came here from Washington. He, uh, he established himself as an
attorney. Very articulate, very--very, uh, uh, shrewd. And, uh,
00:40:00er--very keen, very keen. And he, uh--(clears throat)--he put in quite a bit of
free time on, uh, civil rights cases. That was McAlpin. Uh, he finally was given
a government, uh, job out in San Francisco.
WRIGHT: Um-hm.
JOHNSON: And so he moved out there. I don't know where he is now. But he--he was
here about twelve years. He started out as a partner of, um--partner of, uh,
Charles Anderson, the attorney for the legislature. But, uh, as I said, he spent
about twelve years here, and during that time, he did quite a bit. Harry S.
McAlpin. And a fellow named James Crumlin. Didn't come--didn't start out too
brilliantly. Uh, he started--came here from, uh, World War II. He
00:41:00finished law school. And, uh, he began his practice. But he started early, about
1948, '49, '50, '51, all through the--all through the fifties, he--he
represented the NAACP in the city and throughout the state. He'd get in his car
and drive to any little hamlet, uh, any little town in the state where some poor
black w--had been thrown in jail and beaten, and, uh, just roughed up. Maybe
just to show the rest of the Negroes how they'd treat any Negro who got out of
his place. He went around and represented these. Oh, he--he saved many a fellow
from having to have a prison sentence, for no reason at all except to,
uh-- no just reason. James Crumlin. Uh, he--he beca--he became quite
00:42:00a--a proficient, uh, attorney, and built up a--a--a reasonably good, uh,
practice. Yeah. He has gotten lost in the--in the Republican ranks, though. He's
tried to run for office any number of times, and he has gotten several
appointive offices, uh, assistant prosecuting attorney and all of that kind of
business, but he--he hasn't been able to--to--to win at, uh--because they have
had very competent Negro Democrats in the areas where he would run.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: Whereas in Charlie Anderson's case, nobody ran--nobody--no--no Democrat
or Re--he--we just had one representative, and we told him, "Now you run on a
Republican ticket, but we--you remember, all--every-- Democrats
00:43:00and--and Republicans alike is going to campaign for you."
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: Okay. So, uh, Crumlin is one. Uh, Ben Shobe, Benjamin A. Shobe, is the
police court judge now. And he has ----------(??) through the fifties and
sixties. Benjamin Shobe. Uh, one young fellow who, sort of, ran off the track,
eh, was, uh, Neville Tucker, young Neville Tucker. And he just had a--a--a--a
bunch of unfortunate, uh, situations. You can call them mishaps. Neville Tucker.
WRIGHT: Hmm.
JOHNSON: Uh, was--he was a member of the board of education. He was a member of
the--president of the NAACP for awhile. A very brilliant young fellow, and had
all the promise in the world. And finally, got--he was the first, uh,
00:44:00uh, police court judge, elected. Elected. And people elected him because he was,
uh--he had so much promise. But he got in there, and they--he--he--he just
goofed all along the way. And, uh, it--it--he became an embarrassment even to
his friends. Uh, and finally, the federal--the federal, uh, court, the federal
judge, sent him to, uh, prison for a short length of time to, um, uh--for not
paying income tax.
WRIGHT: Hmm. Hmm. What about someone like Woodford Porter?
JOHNSON: Well--
WRIGHT: --I mean, I guess he's been--
JOHNSON: --uh, uh, I'm--uh, I'm--I want to mention, uh, Woodford Porter, who,
uh--he came along, uh, in the--he graduated from high school and from college,
and, uh, with the background--with the economic base of a very, very,
00:45:00uh, successful, uh, funeral establishment in his family. And he, I think, is the
kingpin in the family. Woodford Porter had the base to operate from, and he has
been very effective. He was the first Negro elected to the board of education.
And, uh, he carried his, uh--(audio break)--responsibilities very admirably. And
after, uh, maybe two terms on the board of education, he, uh, moved over and,
uh, that's when Tucker came in to take his place. Uh, he is now serving maybe a
second or a third term on the board of trustees for the University of
Louisville, and he's doing a good job there. He may be vice president of that
board right now. He has had quite a bit of influence, because he has
00:46:00had contact with the, uh, economic establishment. And when he speaks, the whole
community listens to him. He is--he is reasonably liberal, but he's a sound
businessman, and, uh, that sound business appeals to the establishment. So
Woodford Porter, uh, has been able to get over many a subtle, uh,
accomplishment, uh, just by---------(??). Uh, Bishop C. Ewbank Tucker, ought not
to be forgotten. He's dead now. He died at a--at maybe seventy-eight or
seventy--seventy-seven or seventy-eight. He died about a year ago. Bishop Tucker
was a radical, and he operated--he opened his mouth and spoke out
00:47:00from 1930 until he died last year. Bishop Tucker. He's a bishop of the AME
Meth--AME Zion Church. Uh, he started out as a lawyer. He turned preacher,
became presiding elder, and then finally bishop. And, uh, he was--he was a
controversial fellow. He'd--he would challenge anybody. He--he was a holy terror
in his church, in his--in his legal outfit. They appointed him to several
commissions in town, and he raised hell wherever he went. "Let my
00:48:00people go," was his thing. Bishop Tucker. Well, I guess I could n--name, uh,
Dr.--Dr. Maurice Rabb, Dr. J.H. Walls, Dr. J.A.C. Lattimore. You just can't
forget those people.
WRIGHT: Um-hm. Um-hm. You know, what I have found interesting is that, in a lot
of ways, you remind me of A.E. Meyzeek. Both of you all were educators, and yet
you spoke out. And taking a--it seemed like to me, just a chance on losing your job.
JOHNSON: We--we paid for it. Don't worry about it. ----------(??) Mr. Meyzeek,
uh, claimed me as one of his apostles or whatnot. But he told me, he says, "They
have--they would--they would fire me. They let me become principal because I was
efficient, but they didn't know that I was also a fighter. And after
00:49:00becoming--after be--(audio break)--they won't--they won't re--uh, won't--won't
fire me. But what they'll do is to take--reduce the number of teachers I have
under my supervision, and that'll reduce my salary."
WRIGHT: Hmm. Well, I think--uh, I don't think we really can (??) ----------(??).
JOHNSON: Yeah, well, I--well, I got ----------(??) appointments ----------(??)----------.
WRIGHT: ----------(??)----------
[End of interview.]
