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new book on the historic sit-ins hsboro Daily News, Sunday, June 7, 1970 ^JY WILLIAM D. SNIDER Editor, Daily News & Record Miles Wolff, Jr., son of the I former executive news editor of | this newspaper, has written a remarkably perceptive book abut the Greensboro lunch- counter sit-ins of 10 years ago (Lunch At The 5 & 10, Stein and Day, $5.95). Young Wolff, a graduate of Johns Hopkins recently returned from military service, chose the subject for his master's thesis at the University of Virginia. Later he expanded it into what he calls "a contemporary history." Contemporary it is — today's racial trauma may be at a different stage but its essence is much the same. And history it is also — for Mr. Wolff has probed beneath the surface to I look at the people and issues in | fascinating detail. As an o n -s c e n e witness to these events from a vantage point as associate editor Of the Daily News 10 years ago, I must testify to the author's success in catching both the feel of the | community and the principal I characters in the drama. A Business City Greensboro, as this young au- Ithor describes it, is "a business (city, controlled by businessman . . Greensboro had its country [clubs and debutante ball (significantly enough, not started until 1951), but it had little of the I tradition of the Old South, other j than its share of Southern hospi- I tality and graciousness. And the I influx of new people and tre- 1 mendous growth of the city gave it more of the ai .lbsphere of the . North than if a traditional [ Southern town . . ." Wolff goes on to acknowledge that Greensboro "had many of the Southern attitudes on race, but many in the city prided [themselves on their liberal thinking and The New York Times wrote during the sit-ins: "The views of the white in this traditionally moderate city of 120,000 are mixed and run from what might be called Northern liberal to Southern adamant.' " Mr. Wolff's sketches of the I people thrown suddenly into this unexpected maelstrom reflect their diverse views; they pro- jvide the book's drama. The heroes, if any — in addition to the four black A&T freshmen who walked into Wool- worth's on the first Monday of February i960 and sat down at the lunch counters — are two I white men utterly diverse in 1 background and temperament. .„ff«afifcMrei«s« One is Ralph Johns, the erratic, big-hearted clothing store proprietor who challenged the black youths to take their stand. Johns' role at the time was not widely known. The Wolff book pinpoints it in detail. A leader's difficulties The other is Edward R. Zane, city councilman and top official of Burlington Industries, who | stepped in at a turbulent mo Iment to provide courageous [ leadership. Mr. Zane's role has been widely publicized, but this book relates in detail how valuable his services were. It also illuminates the difficulties encountered by any traditional leader when he attempts to make the rigors of change more bearable. , Wolff's book succeeds because he expends great effort in examining the nuances of community opinion and pressures. None of his characters are wholly saints or rogues; they are mostly people and the author has caught them in their complexities and frustrations. In retrospect,-— and especially for the youth of today — it seems unbelievable that 10 years ago Greensboro restaurants and variety store lunch counters were unwilling to serve black customers. Yet that was true all over the South. (Most white Greensburghers have forgotten that only two years earlier in 1958 the Guilford County Interracial Commission, in its 50th year, was ousted from the Greensboro United Fund after fund leaders decided that some citizens were refusing to contribute because they objected to the group. Out of an annual budget of over $759,000, the commission had asked for $250.) Why was the Southern custom of segregated public accommodations so difficult to change? The answers lie deep in the white-black syndrome of the Old South and undoubtedly they are complicated. But in hindsight The counter revolution historians will have difficulty excusing the procrastination and blindness of the white man — yes, his callousness and lack of sensitivity — toward the person- hood of his brother. The economic squeeze Wolff shows that not until the economic squeeze produced painful results — not until the black boycott exerted its pressure — did the variety stores agree to come around. Their argument was a familiar one still in vogue whenever difficult changes seem necessary: They did not want to be in the vanguard of change; they feared the impact of change upon their businesses. The easiest solution was to stand pat until the young people (not so burdened down by adult responsibilities) showed the way. The moral issue Some community factions were concerned about the moral issue; but except for a handful of leaders, very few whites fell in line under that banner. (It is interesting that Councilman Zane's boss, the late J. Spencer Love — a man of considerable vision in many areas—sent him a letter firmly backing his efforts: "Congratulations and thanks on continuing to take the leadership in the lunch counter situation problem. Please consider me in reserve, and if there is any way you know of that I can be helpful let me know.") Zane found himself exposed to all manner of harassment from Klan elements who immediately entered the fray and made their pressure felt. Only the resource fulness of the dedicated Greensboro Police Department, under its Chief Paul Calhoun, kept diverse elements from exploding on each other. In many ways the behavior of the police force reflected Greensboro's inherent sense of balance, even when the fire grew hottest. The community contained enough character and common sense to see the moral obtuseness of segregated lunch counters operating side-by-side with integrated merchandise . counters. Against students protesting such manifestly obvious injustice,, harsh repression or even "business as usual" could not long prevail. Because there was enough worry about the moral issue underneath the economics, the vfour black students succeeded. Their movement spread like a forest fire across the South. History's lessons So young Miles Wolff has given us an important piece of contemporary history in our own backyard — written while the facts were still available and with a steady hand and perceptive eye. "Those who do not learn from history," goes the old aphorism, "are destined to repeat it." Let those grappling with some | of the currently heated issues profit from the perspective of ] the lunch counter sit-ins. There are lessons enough here, 10 years later, for both whites and- blacks — and especially for those inclined to accept the privileges of their own position with an uncritical eye.
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Full text | new book on the historic sit-ins hsboro Daily News, Sunday, June 7, 1970 ^JY WILLIAM D. SNIDER Editor, Daily News & Record Miles Wolff, Jr., son of the I former executive news editor of | this newspaper, has written a remarkably perceptive book abut the Greensboro lunch- counter sit-ins of 10 years ago (Lunch At The 5 & 10, Stein and Day, $5.95). Young Wolff, a graduate of Johns Hopkins recently returned from military service, chose the subject for his master's thesis at the University of Virginia. Later he expanded it into what he calls "a contemporary history." Contemporary it is — today's racial trauma may be at a different stage but its essence is much the same. And history it is also — for Mr. Wolff has probed beneath the surface to I look at the people and issues in | fascinating detail. As an o n -s c e n e witness to these events from a vantage point as associate editor Of the Daily News 10 years ago, I must testify to the author's success in catching both the feel of the | community and the principal I characters in the drama. A Business City Greensboro, as this young au- Ithor describes it, is "a business (city, controlled by businessman . . Greensboro had its country [clubs and debutante ball (significantly enough, not started until 1951), but it had little of the I tradition of the Old South, other j than its share of Southern hospi- I tality and graciousness. And the I influx of new people and tre- 1 mendous growth of the city gave it more of the ai .lbsphere of the . North than if a traditional [ Southern town . . ." Wolff goes on to acknowledge that Greensboro "had many of the Southern attitudes on race, but many in the city prided [themselves on their liberal thinking and The New York Times wrote during the sit-ins: "The views of the white in this traditionally moderate city of 120,000 are mixed and run from what might be called Northern liberal to Southern adamant.' " Mr. Wolff's sketches of the I people thrown suddenly into this unexpected maelstrom reflect their diverse views; they pro- jvide the book's drama. The heroes, if any — in addition to the four black A&T freshmen who walked into Wool- worth's on the first Monday of February i960 and sat down at the lunch counters — are two I white men utterly diverse in 1 background and temperament. .„ff«afifcMrei«s« One is Ralph Johns, the erratic, big-hearted clothing store proprietor who challenged the black youths to take their stand. Johns' role at the time was not widely known. The Wolff book pinpoints it in detail. A leader's difficulties The other is Edward R. Zane, city councilman and top official of Burlington Industries, who | stepped in at a turbulent mo Iment to provide courageous [ leadership. Mr. Zane's role has been widely publicized, but this book relates in detail how valuable his services were. It also illuminates the difficulties encountered by any traditional leader when he attempts to make the rigors of change more bearable. , Wolff's book succeeds because he expends great effort in examining the nuances of community opinion and pressures. None of his characters are wholly saints or rogues; they are mostly people and the author has caught them in their complexities and frustrations. In retrospect,-— and especially for the youth of today — it seems unbelievable that 10 years ago Greensboro restaurants and variety store lunch counters were unwilling to serve black customers. Yet that was true all over the South. (Most white Greensburghers have forgotten that only two years earlier in 1958 the Guilford County Interracial Commission, in its 50th year, was ousted from the Greensboro United Fund after fund leaders decided that some citizens were refusing to contribute because they objected to the group. Out of an annual budget of over $759,000, the commission had asked for $250.) Why was the Southern custom of segregated public accommodations so difficult to change? The answers lie deep in the white-black syndrome of the Old South and undoubtedly they are complicated. But in hindsight The counter revolution historians will have difficulty excusing the procrastination and blindness of the white man — yes, his callousness and lack of sensitivity — toward the person- hood of his brother. The economic squeeze Wolff shows that not until the economic squeeze produced painful results — not until the black boycott exerted its pressure — did the variety stores agree to come around. Their argument was a familiar one still in vogue whenever difficult changes seem necessary: They did not want to be in the vanguard of change; they feared the impact of change upon their businesses. The easiest solution was to stand pat until the young people (not so burdened down by adult responsibilities) showed the way. The moral issue Some community factions were concerned about the moral issue; but except for a handful of leaders, very few whites fell in line under that banner. (It is interesting that Councilman Zane's boss, the late J. Spencer Love — a man of considerable vision in many areas—sent him a letter firmly backing his efforts: "Congratulations and thanks on continuing to take the leadership in the lunch counter situation problem. Please consider me in reserve, and if there is any way you know of that I can be helpful let me know.") Zane found himself exposed to all manner of harassment from Klan elements who immediately entered the fray and made their pressure felt. Only the resource fulness of the dedicated Greensboro Police Department, under its Chief Paul Calhoun, kept diverse elements from exploding on each other. In many ways the behavior of the police force reflected Greensboro's inherent sense of balance, even when the fire grew hottest. The community contained enough character and common sense to see the moral obtuseness of segregated lunch counters operating side-by-side with integrated merchandise . counters. Against students protesting such manifestly obvious injustice,, harsh repression or even "business as usual" could not long prevail. Because there was enough worry about the moral issue underneath the economics, the vfour black students succeeded. Their movement spread like a forest fire across the South. History's lessons So young Miles Wolff has given us an important piece of contemporary history in our own backyard — written while the facts were still available and with a steady hand and perceptive eye. "Those who do not learn from history," goes the old aphorism, "are destined to repeat it." Let those grappling with some | of the currently heated issues profit from the perspective of ] the lunch counter sit-ins. There are lessons enough here, 10 years later, for both whites and- blacks — and especially for those inclined to accept the privileges of their own position with an uncritical eye. |