BHM - RDC

BHM -- RDC

Black History Month
Rupert Dickson Cornelson

 So, I began to muse on a civil rights activist, Rupert Dickson Cornelson

From rural southern Mississippi, a hotbed of racial tension?! Economic hard times forced RDC to leave home when 14, becoming merchant marine.  Only after 51 years, five decades, of hard work, did he retire.  Sent money home. Gave it to needy folks. Tithed (plus!) at his church.  I only wish I knew stories on his upbringing that made him the man he was.  Taught me to be “color blind”

1.       BHM Story #1 – Being from MS, some fellows surrounded, Rupert, the young kid with the dark curls, and confirmed his Mississippi roots.  They then asked him if he would be interested in joining the Ku Klux Klan. I do not know the details, but something in his heart told him to politely answer, “no thanks…”  I guess they walked away and forgot about him.  That had to have been a tense moment for a teenager, far away from home, on a ship in the Atlantic.

2.       BHM Story #2 – “would you be interested in joining the NAACP, Mr. Dick?”  This question was asked by a group of locals some four decades later, in his south Alabama home.  They knew his heart and the stand he had made to treat all with respect and dignity.  Interestingly, he turned them down, not because of disagreement with their cause, though.  He explained, “I will just try to do my good through my church… but thanks for asking…”

3.       BHM Story #3 – A new home for the Lyles, new converts driving 30 miles to church, was a problem.  They worked in the local school, but lived across the county line, out in the rural area.  Seemingly, there were no homes available (for them) according to the local real estate people.  So, Rupert and Millie went to a real estate agent, and expressed an interest in a home in town.  Several  options were discussed.  Then, they showed up in the real estate office, with the Lyles!  Now, the Lyles had a new home nearer to their jobs and their new church.  The neighborhood was now integrated, though.

4.       BHM Story #4 – Also, there was a confrontation with another church elder who wanted to build “them” their own church. The demographics of the church was changing, starting with Howard and Lula Mae.  Howard was the “yard man” for Ruth, one of the church members.  Then Starling and Shirley (Howard’s son) … Blacks were coming in the front door; and, whites were slipping out the back door.  The elders met, and considered options.  Finally, “…they make me sick to my stomach…” was the first honest thing said by one of the leaders.  Finally, that elder left, driving 30 miles or more to another church, who never asked him why?!

5.       BHM Story #5 – I also remember a work interaction – Daddy was on a creeper, slid up under some equipment, working, and another fellow kicked his foot and said they needed to talk.  He asked, “Dick, are niggers going to church with you? Don’t you know that those black apes have no souls…”   Daddy just looked at him, and with a silent prayer, answered, “anyone welcome there, even you.”  Then, he slid back under the equipment, and went back to work.

6.       BHM Story #6 – There was a family meeting about going to all-white private school.  We were hold outs at the local high school, now integrated for two years.  I was playing on the high school football team with some new, BIG transfers!  But, this new school year began with several bomb threats that emptied out the classrooms, every other day.  It was chaos.  (likely it was a recruiting device for the local “academy” to get all the whites over there?!)  It was a dilemma, a hard place “between the sea and Satan”.  After a couple of weeks, Dad told us three kids that our mother was a nervous wreck, worried about us kids.  We would have to leave the public school.  “but…” “I know we have not raised you to be racist, but…”  I made new friends, but at the other academy on the other end of the county! 

7.       BHM Story #7 – A more ominous memory is one when I, as a teen, overheard whispered breakfast chatter about a threatened “burning cross” in front of the church building. (1970’s)  Nothing ever happened.  But, one has to wonder how the demons were maneuvering behind the scenes?!

8.       BHM Story #8 – After a while, with a different preacher, or two, it was time to locate a new minister.  Small churches, in the best of times, often have to do this every two or three years.  After some discussion, Dad suggested, “we have had white preachers; time to hire a black preacher…reach out into both communities…”

9.       BHM Story #9 – Somewhere along the way, in my teen years, family discussion turned toward spouse selection!  It was understood that marrying an unbeliever was not an option.  "We are not concerned about the color of your date; but her faith..." “marry a Christian, a black Christian over a white unbeliever…” (do not misunderstand this)  They were NOT suggesting that a second-rate believer was better than a first-rate unbeliever.  The point was to look on the heart, not the skin. They were just impressing upon their children the need to marry a believer.  With all the troubles that mixed race marriages have to overcome, a mixed faith marriage was worse, eternally worse.  I do suspect that the ultimate test of racism may be one's feelings about "interracial marriage"?!  There is but one race, though, the human race.

10.   BHM Story #10 – I left for Bible college on a Trailways bus.  My first car was not bought until I was 20 years old, a 1967 Ford.  My parents bought it from a machinist at the mill where Dad worked.  As I took the keys from my dad, he cautioned, “I would take off the front plate…”  The previous owner had a nice “Stars and Bars” plate on the front.  Even then, in the late 1970’s, my dad was sensitive to the perspective of others, blacks, who saw remnants of the Old South, as reminders of slavery.  In this decade, all this has boiled over with statues being torn down, even monuments of former Supreme Court justices.  (there is a similar story about a Maltese Cross that I had traded somebody for at school, as a 4^th grader)

11.   BHM Story #11 – This story involves my dad, only indirectly, and is cutting humor.  Mama had taken me clothes shopping for Bible college.  Blue jeans, tee shirts, and flannels were not going to be enough.  I selected a few dress shirts, a tie or two, some dress shoes, and was trying on some nice dress pants.  I am not a fashion mogul, and do not want to be one.  But, the salesman quietly whispered to me, as I tried on some snazzy, polyester bell bottoms with a cummerbund style waist, “… sir, mostly those blacks wear those pants…”.  He completely disappeared as I looked at him, without flinching, and straight-facedly informed him that my dad was black!  Daddy was at work, so the lie was successful, on several fronts!

12.   BHM Story #12 – Finally, at his funeral, 2010, two groups were there, as one, family and church: Norse/highlanders and African Americans!  And all were welcome at the reception at Aunt Sally Jean’s house after the funeral.  I guess he was from a long line of whites who were “color blind”?!

Perhaps “color blind” is not the best descriptor of this heart condition?  Maybe, “diversity appreciation”?  That is a little cumbersome, maybe.