Dear friends,

This weekend, the Anzaldo-Satterwhite family went on a little trip through Alabama. What I continually find fascinating is just how close all of the historical Civil Rights spots are to us here in Pensacola.

While searching for a vegan soul food restaurant in Montgomery, (yes, they had one), we walked by the very spot where Rosa Parks stepped onto the bus and into history. Only a few blocks away from there is the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. preached and helped lead the Montgomery Bus Boycott. On the steps of the church, we took a family photo and it’s hard not to notice just how close the state capitol is, famously where segregationist George Wallace stood and declared segregation would last forever.

Although we saw many murals and memorials in Montgomery, none were dedicated to Governor Wallace.

What I found interesting and often underappreciated when we think of our neighboring state is just how much Civil Rights history is so very close to us. Many of those people are still with us, too.

Just before we left for our journey through Alabama, I interviewed an incredible woman named Jawana Jackson-Richie. A native of Selma, Alabama, her family home was the house where Dr. King used as a spot to organize and sleep during the Selma Marches in 1965.

Jawana was only 4 when Dr. King was living in the house, but she still has very specific memories of him reading bedtime stories to her and sitting in her living room. In that room of her modest home in Selma, she not only saw Dr. King interact with her parents but also with luminaries of the era, including Ralph Abernathy and Andrew Young. My interview was for an article I’m currently writing, so I was curious to see Selma for myself since we were going to be nearby.

Before going to the Jackson-Richie home, we stopped by the famous Edmund Pettus Bridge, the site of the Bloody Sunday attacks that helped to change the national focus towards voting rights. Memorials to John Lewis stood on the other side of the bridge, as well as memorials to the many that suffered in Selma during that protest but also before through slavery and racial terrorism lynchings.

Afterward, we drove to the Jackson-Richie’s home so I could take some pictures for my article. Driving to her home, it was hard not to notice how devastated Selma looked. Back in January of 2023, the city was hit by a tornado that laid incredible destruction on much of the town. Busted windows were as common as blue tarps on people’s roofs. Some houses I was even surprised to see people living in, as the homes looked completely uninhabitable. I remarked to Lauren that it looked like the Civil War just taken place.

During the anniversary commemoration of Bloody Sunday two months later, President Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris visited the city. The news focused on the visit and the city’s recovery, but driving through Selma didn’t look like the coverage had made a strong impact yet. I’m sure I’m not the only one to make this analogy, but for the city that gave us the Voting Rights Act, the state of the city could easily be compared to the state of our democracy.

Basically, we are all still in recovery from a tornado. Traumatized by recent events, looking pretty disheveled, and certainly at a crossroads. As Selma could clearly go in a few directions, so could many of our traditions.

Our last stop in Selma was to visit the memorial for the Unitarian Universalist minister James Reeb. In 1965, after witnessing from afar the events of Bloody Sunday, Reeb heeded King’s call for clergy of all races and religions to join the marches in Selma. Reeb said goodbye to his family and drove down from Boston to Selma. That was the last time his family saw him alive. After an organizing meeting, Reeb went to dinner at a local Black restaurant, but walked home and made a wrong turn. He was quickly recognized by some local white supremacists and brutally attacked. He died two days later.

There are several monuments and memorials throughout the area, but Reverend Reeb’s was special because he’s a Unitarian Universalist. He traveled a great distance to join the marches, and paid with his life for crossing the deep racial lines of Selma that permeated much of the United States. By far, he is not the only one. Jimmy Jackson and Viola Liuzzo died in Selma during this tumultuous campaign, and many others died throughout this struggle. As we see voting rights under attack, as well as nearly every principle UUs hold dear, this a moment where we as UUs can look to examples within our traditions and without. None of these martyrs asked to be in this position, yet their names are etched on memorials all over Selma. Seeing this, I had that old Labor Movement song in my head: “Which side are you on?”

To that question, many of us know the answer.

Many of us have marched in protests over the years. My friend Bill Sloan and I have traveled to the gates of Fort Benning on several occasions to speak out against what’s often called the School of the Assassins. Several of us were part of the many peace protests during the Iraq War. Dozens of our members put their lives on the lines weekly to protect women seeking abortion services, before and after one of our members, James Barrett, was assassinated in 1994. And yes, members of our congregation were active during the Civil Rights Movements, too: the historic one from the 1960s, and the recent one that is still unfolding.

Visiting Selma, we saw seemingly countless memorials for the victims of bigotry—including those to Rev. Reeb and Dr. King. Seeing these memorials offered us a place to reflect on what it means to live up to our values and hold true to our principles. We have many great examples, and we often lead by example. Whether this be in street protests or in meetings on housing with JUST Pensacola, or simply when we debate whether or not to add the 8th principle, we are an active bunch.

As I’ve said before, though, we’re in a moment where a lot is being asked of us as individuals and a congregation, and it surely can feel overwhelming. Nonetheless, we do have examples that can serve to guide us and know that we stand on the shoulders of giants, including many from our own pews.

Visiting Alabama showed me the importance of following our principles, and it also showed me the power of conviction. I hope it’s a lesson my kids will take with them as we plant these seeds in them, which will grow at their own rate as they did in me, and continue to grow in me as I continue on this journey.

Sincerely,

Scott

Scott Satterwhite