It was the 1960s, and AM radio provided the soundtrack that got the party started in parks, beaches, front stoops and backyards across the country. African American DJs, with their melodic voices and big personalities were the griots, broadcasting critical cultural and political messages to the masses. Their importance was never more evident than in the spring of 1963, in Birmingham, Alabama.
After the murder of Emmett Till in 1955, the Civil Rights Movement grew steadily. Montgomery, Little Rock, Greensboro, Atlanta – marches, rallies, boycotts and sit-ins rippled across the South. But in 1962, the year-long Albany, GA campaign petered to an unfruitful end and cast doubts on the viability of the protests.
By 1963, the Birmingham African American community was experiencing movement fatigue. There was the ever-present fear of Klan reprisals and legally sanctioned firings by white employers. Volunteers were dwindling. Dr. King traveled to Birmingham to marshal the masses, but was unsuccessful, even after he was arrested and wrote Letter From Birmingham Jail.
It was clear that a new strategy was needed.
Then the SCLC’s Rev. James Bevel and Birmingham activist Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth proposed a highly controversial tack – recruiting children to fill the ranks. For this, they enlisted the help of popular radio DJs, including Shelley “Playboy” Stewart and “Tall Paul” White
The DJs mobilized student leaders, athletes and cheerleaders to bring their friends to church rallies. They screened film strips of sit-ins, segregationists’ attacks, and police arrests, then drilled in nonviolent response.
The children, eager to join the fight, hid their participation from their more reluctant parents.
On April 29th, they distributed leaflets directing their peers to leave school early on May 2nd.
That morning the DJs, using code, announced a “party in the park,” and played Big Joe Turner’s Shake Rattle and Roll.
They chanted “We gonna jump and shout, we gonna turn it out” to signal the mass rally.
They advised the children to “bring your toothbrush, lunch will be served” to prepare for being arrested and jailed overnight.
To confuse the police, the legion of students was divided into massive groups. One group met at the 16th St. Baptist Church. Another, in waves of 50, walked two-by-two toward Kelly Ingram Park to pray. A third converged on City Hall.
Fanning out in different directions, it was impossible for the police to stop them all. But Public Safety Commissioner “Bull” Conner, familiar with the movement’s usual tactics, surprised the organizers by unleashing K-9 units and high-pressure fire hoses on the children, some as young as six years old.
Thousands were arrested. A caravan of school buses carted the children off until the jails were overwhelmed. Then they were taken to the fairgrounds which quickly took on the appearance of a concentration camp. Some were released the same day, and returned to rally the next day. Many more spent several days imprisoned.
The marches continued that week and brought all downtown commerce to a halt. Television crews and newspapers captured kids getting hosed and arrested, which sparked national outrage.
Soon the white businessmen were calling for negotiations with Movement leaders to stop the demonstrations. By May 10th, agreements were announced to desegregate lunch counters, businesses and restrooms, and improve hiring practices.
Movement progress revived nationally and in August, the March on Washington became the largest Civil Rights demonstration in history.
But a backlash reared in Birmingham. That September, the 16th Street Baptist Church was bombed, killing four little girls.
The following July, President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
