'Greensboro Four' keep humility intact
By JOHN ALEXANDER
Editorial Page Editor
As Greensboro approached the 30th anniversary of the lunch counter sit-ins this past
week, I wondered how this celebration
could possibly improve on similar festivities
marking the 20th and 25th anniversaries of
the same historic event. Would we not cover
the same ground and, in the process, wallow
in a little too much self-
congratulation? Would
not our amazement at
those trying times obscure our vision about
what must be done to
rectify racial problems
over the next 30 years?
My worries, I am happy to report, were ill-
founded. The planners of
this commemoration out-
did themselves; they Alexander
performed a valuable
service to the community. The programs
they assembled focused as much on the future as on the past — if not more so.
One reason these celebrations exceed expectations has to do with the character of
the original four who took those historic
steps — Joseph McNeil, Jibreel Khazan
(formerly Ezell Blair Jr.), Franklin McCain
and David Richmond.
First, given the vagaries of life over a
30-year period, it is amazing to me that
these four are still alive and well and able to
come together on these occasions, accompanied by their families. And what indelible
stories they have to tell.
Yet when all the praise has been heaped
upon them — when they have been called
Tar Heel Talk
heroes and men who changed the course of
history, when they have been issued proclamations and plaques of every kind, when
they have signed autographs and listened to
endless hours of chatter, some of it no doubt
excruciating, they are still able to step forward in all humility and honesty and remain
the ordinary, unassuming, flesh-and-bones
humans that they are.
Atypically in this day and age, there is no
hint that any of them has ever capitalized on
his moment of fame. Nor, as one luncheon
speaker noted the other day, has any of
them simply rested on that achievement 30
years ago. In their work and their lives,
these four continue to contribute selflessly
to their communities.
In comments at the luncheon on the A&T
State University campus last week, the four
were quick to acknowledge their indebtedness to others, many of them seated in the
audience. One secret of the four's genuineness is their recognition that they were part
of a much larger movement that nudged
them from behind, and that sustained them
once they defied segregation.
Here is a distillation of some of what each
of them had to say:
• McNeil: The four students were symbols of the sacrifice of all students, who
risked jail sentences, poor grades and financial distress during the sit-in movement.
Members of the community deserve thanks,
too — black and white — who raised bail for
the jailed students and provided other support. We are all leaders in the struggle, and
we all must act.
• Richmond: Heroes we are not. Some are
born great or achieve greatness, but greatness was thrust upon us. We are the products of the influence of many others. You
know who you are, and God bless you.
• Khazan: Thanks must go to all parents
— ours and others' — who made sacrifices.
We stand on the shoulders of our ancestors.
February 1 is also significant because it is
National Freedom Day, proclaimed by
Abraham Lincoln on Feb. 1, 1865, to commemorate the signing of the 13th Amendment abolishing slavery.
• McCain: I accept your awards with humility, and with hope, too. Special thanks go
to former Mayor Ed Zane, and to former
A&T President Warmath Gibbs, for their
understanding.
In his remarks before the audience, former Charlotte Mayor Harvey Gantt, now a
Democratic candidate for U.S. Senate,
praised the four for their continuing commitment to the cause of civil rights. And he
reminded the audience that too many middle
class blacks who have "made it" now turn
their backs on those they left behind in the
ghetto.
These men, Gantt said, have never turned
their backs, have never forgotten their
roots. They were ordinary students who
lived in an extraordinary time and who took
extraordinary steps for freedom.
That is why they will be remembered:
Not only for who they were and are, but for
what they symbolized, and for the invaluable realization that ordinary people, acting
on their own, can transform society. That is
why, with each passing year and each commemoration, the significance of the sit-ins
becomes more wondrous to behold.