The Dark Before Dawn: From Civil Wrongs to Civil Light

By Gerald Eubanks

As an African American child growing up in St. Augustine, Florida, author Gerald Eubanks had a hard time seeing the victories won during the Civil War in action. Blacks were excluded from opportunities afforded to his white neighbors. Schools were aggressively segregated. Racial tensions simmered. The towns sheriff deputized members of the notorious Ku Klux Klan to ensure continued white supremacy.

It was through the persistence of quiet, unsung heroes that progress began to appear. Here, he celebrates the little-known champions of the movementthose who demonstrated tirelessly, picketed fearlessly, encouraged, consoled, stood tall, and never wavered in their determination to do the right thing despite overwhelming opposition.

The Dark before Dawn is Geralds very personal story of the struggles of life in St. Augustine, Florida, during the civil rights movements of the late 1950s and beyond. It is a tribute to the hundreds of ordinary people who risked everything so that the lives of generations of others might be better. Those familiar with the events of the era credit the Eubanks family with making the significant contributions to the advance of human and civil rights, but their story has gone unheraldeduntil now. Gerald Eubanks lived through those turbulent times, and now he reminds readers that the fight for civil rights goes on today. He warns that without vigilance, we may find ourselves in the dark before the dawn once again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475955576

Gerald Eubanks

Gerald Eubanks, a graduate of Florida Memorial College and the University of North Florida, is an intern supervisor in the education department of Flagler College in St. Augustine, Florida. He is proud that the role his family played locally contributed to the passage of the national Civil Rights Bill of 1964.

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Copyright © 2012 by Gerald Eubanks

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-5555-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-5556-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-5557-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012919642

iUniverse rev. date: 10/15/2012

Contents

PART I

Foreword

Author’s Note

Introduction

Familial Revelations

The Author’s Perspective on Special Life Moments in the Glare of the Civil Rights Movement

The Beginning of the Day

Along Comes the Dark

More Darkness

Local/Area Media Responses

Foot-Soldier Responses—

Some Unsung Heroes

Part II THE DARKEST OF NIGHt

Special Light on Sites Critical to the Civil Rights Movement in St. Augustine, Florida, During the Late 1950s and 1960s

Part III THE COMING OF DAWN

MOMENTOUS ECHOES (Introduction)

Part IV.

More from the Author’s Perspective—Part Two

Poetic and Soulful Reflections Authenticating the Civil Rights Era

— POETIC MUSINGS, PROVIDING LIGHT FOR THE DARK BEFORE DAWN—

A FOOT SOLDIER’S MEMORY*From the Beginning to Now

The dreams pursued first appeared real, but

Seemed to disappear (in the light of years that have since passed).

Not one season (or reason), not just four, but more!

And from around the globe they came …

Hanging in and mentally reeling, and especially within those who

Remained; (oh) the (still) lingering, stringent, and painful feelings!

Yes, the hearts and souls of all those who bore those emotions expel with

Disdain the attempts by those who, today, absorb (unjustly) the physical

Chains and espouse the mental claims!

… Like the echoes of voices we remember; (they are) so different from those of today.

… Like the shoes of horses worn on hooves—for convenience—clip-clop, clip-clop.

But, oh-h-h, what a phony, and even dishonest, empty sound (on some cobblestoned streets). So-o-o strange. Yes, strange!

Please! Remove the shoes and just run! Do I remember? You ask.

Oh, I remember—but will stand (for something), still!

Unlike footprints left on a beach, the memories will never wash, nor run, away.

And, lest I forget, all the promises of all the dreams of all the nights—and not even a mule, yet, in sight!

*Note: The emotional connections of my entire life, but especially as they relate to the dreams of the civil rights era (and the mental embrace of at least one hundred years before), are fully expressed in the poetic mood of A Foot Soldier’s Memory.

Part I

Foreword

(A friendly collaboration between the author, Gerald Eubanks, and Patricia Stoddard—both natives of St. Augustine, Florida)

In the early 1960s, students were taught in school that all men were free to pursue their dreams without fear of loss of liberty because a full one hundred years earlier, the Civil War had been fought to free the United States from the inhumane practice of slavery. The very next year, 1965, would bring the much-anticipated four hundredth anniversary of the founding of St. Augustine, Florida. In 1565, St. Augustine was founded by Pedro Menendez De Aviles, making it the oldest permanent European settlement in America. Preparations for the quadricentennial were in full swing. But no blacks were included on the committees generating ideas for the celebration.

In 1963, then Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson firmly stated that he would not visit the city to participate in the festivities if segregation were allowed. This was, after all, the civil rights era. Schools were ordered desegregated. In June 1964, desegregation became the law of the land with the passage of the Civil Rights Act. But there were those in St. Augustine who vowed to ignore the law and the spirit of all previous laws that spoke to the issue of equality.

Gerald Eubanks has lived in St. Augustine all of his life and was deeply and personally affected by the tumultuous events of those years. This book is his story, as only one who has lived through such times can tell. It is a tale of startling color and contrasts, violent, poignant, yet triumphant through the perseverance of quiet unsung heroes. But there were those in authority who seemed purely evil.

We had a racist town sheriff, L. O. Davis, who violently opposed integration, so much so that he deputized members of the notorious Ku Klux Klan to ensure continued white supremacy. His picture appeared on the front page of the New York Times, cigar in mouth, cattle prod in hand. The sheriff strapped on his gun so he could fire at civil rights workers if they got in his way.

We had a chief of police who looked the other way when young black men were beaten, stabbed, and arrested on false charges. He was an ardent supporter of the John Birch Society, which proclaimed that peaceful, legal demonstrations were linked to communism. His son, Virgil Stuart Jr., was for a brief time married to my first cousin. Her only sister was married to the nephew of the next character.

We had a moonshine-swilling hog former, a convicted felon, as the go-to guy of the local chapter of the KKK. He halted legitimate protests, marching with his fellow Klansmen, threatening, menacing, and spewing hatred and violence because he deemed himself better than a black man. Oh, and by the way, he was a deputy, courtesy of the oh-so-likeable Sheriff L. O. Davis. I wish I had a nickel for every time I heard my aunt talk about L. O. when I was a child. Why not just call himself Lawrence? That was his given name. And the hog farmer, Halstead Isadore Manucy, was just Hoss.

There have been several books written on this topic, and Mr. Eubanks has no wish to be repetitive. He actually lived through this. Mr. Eubanks, his family, and his friends were shaken to the core by these events. He includes the substance of correspondence from his mother and brother. Their anguish is palpable; their fear for their children is heartbreaking.

The author’s purpose is not to rehash events or to dwell on such notable figures as Dr. King, or even the brave, early leader of the movement, Dr. Robert Hayling, but rather to commend the unsung heroes of the movement—those who demonstrated tirelessly, picketed fearlessly, encouraged, consoled, stood tall, and never wavered in their determination to do the right thing despite overwhelming opposition.

As a native St. Augustinian who lived just blocks away from the conflicts, marches, and skirmishes, I must say with astonishment that I was, for the most part, unaware of all that was happening. I don’t remember much television coverage of these events. I heard Martin Luther King Jr.’s name tossed about, mostly with derision and tinged with fear. Change is frightening, especially to those who stand to lose their superior status. I graduated from St. Joseph Academy in June 1964. My classmates spoke of football games, of movie stars, television sitcoms, of stolen kisses and making out—the usual things—not about the monstrous events unfolding all around us. I guess we existed in the calm eye of the storm. And it was definitely a storm.

Finally, it is the author’s intent to focus on those we might typify as the quiet heroes, seldom praised or even mentioned, who worked tirelessly despite the turmoil, taking care of their families, friends, and even complete strangers, whose lives were disrupted during these frightening days. Without their efforts and sacrifices, without their fortitude and grace in the midst of the maelstrom, darkness might have swallowed up all hope. Instead, eventually there came the dawn of a new era of freedom.

This compelling book tells of these unsung heroes, whose bravery finally will be revealed to be shared by all willing to know more of the truth. Gerald Eubanks was there among them, and it is his history, his story to tell. Now a light will shine upon them and bring them out of darkness. Truth is light!

—Patricia Stoddard

Author’s Note

A special thanks to St. Augustine native and friend Patricia Stoddard for her introductory discourse. Please look forward to the interview she granted me, which I have included later in this book. I found it very candid. Those who ultimately read our experiences of the late 1950s and 1960s will have a chance to compare and contrast that very special time in our lives.

—Gerald Eubanks

Introduction

This story, The Dark before Dawn, is a collection of moods and musings of people, unsung heroes, and yes, family, who were participants—directly or indirectly—in the civil rights movement of the late 1950s and especially the 1960s. The center of the focus will be St. Augustine, Florida. The purpose will be to present the truth, or certainly, another version of the truth of that era.

My motivation to share these personal views and those of my family and friends is anchored in echoes I’ve heard over the years by hundreds of foot soldiers, those who participated in St. Augustine. All these authentic participants proclaim, even loudly, that the Eubanks family, more than any others, made the most significant and truly worthwhile contribution to the advance of the quest for civil/human rights, and yet, has gone unheralded.

This book is a tribute to all the hundreds of people, ordinary people, foot soldiers who sacrificed, indeed gave their lives, so that our lives and those of generations to come might be better. Most importantly, we must recognize that these examples need to be replicated today, because the quest for the rights we sought is still necessary, maybe even more so. We may find ourselves still in the dark before dawn.

It is hoped that, while sharing our experiences, you will feel that the spirit of the past has been captured. Hopefully the torch of light will be accepted by you and motivate you to lead the way to the dawn of a new day in improved personal, racial, and interracial relations. Is it possible that we, in this country, might really lead the way, living up to the essence of the credo in the Pledge of Allegiance—all under God? We must focus on deeds, not epitaphs!

Familial Revelations

A FOOT SOLDIER’S MOTHER

(In tribute to Georgia Hancock Eubanks)

With a regal bearing

Yet humble demeanor,

Born of meager circumstances

Where love was the majority sustenance,

She lost her own mother at a young age.

But her mother’s spirit thrived in her countenance

As demonstrated in the care of her younger brother and sister

And her own family.

Beside our father, Clifton Eubanks,

She raised nine children.

No easy feat at any time,

Much less the troubled times of the 50s and 60s,

When the turmoil of the fight for civil rights

Was the rule of the day.

Yet, for her, it seemed just the backdrop,

For she focused on her primary duty

Of clothing, feeding, and teaching the nine of us.

She taught us with her own carriage,

To be mindful of our appearance,

To keep our shoulders straight, and

To hold our heads high.

We learned on our own how to duck when we needed to,

A good skill to have during those times,

For more reasons than one.

Her quiet nature belied a strong inner will, fierce determination,

And a reverence for honesty and obedience,

We knew not to deny.

Her dreams were for her children.

She emphasized the need for education,

To be of good character, and productive members of our community.

She practiced in deed

The qualities she wanted to instill in us,

Which we should all strive to achieve.

None could ask for a better role model

Than our mother,

Georgia Hancock Eubanks.

I want to express sincere gratitude to my mother, the inimitable Georgia Lee Hancock Eubanks, for all the sacrifices that she has made (and still makes) for her family, including my late father, Clifton Eubanks. She is made of the best human qualities, with the strength of steel, the core of her soul like a diamond, and yet, the tenderness of a crystal of snow.

That having been said, I am reminded of my father, who made it crystal clear that no matter how old we get, he is still our father. Can any one of us ever figure the import of that statement? Our mother tends to echo those same sentiments, albeit with less demanding tones. Even so, I want to thank her for the sacrifices