16-02-2025
Caprock Chronicles: Overcoming early Lubbock's shameful treatment of Black residents, Part 1
Editor's Note: Jack Becker is the editor of Caprock Chronicles and is a Librarian Emeritus from Texas Tech University. He can be reached at Today's article about early Lubbock's treatment of Black residents is the first of a two-part series by frequent contributor Chuck Lanehart, Lubbock attorney and award-winning history writer, and Professor Dwight McDonald, Director of Community Engagement at Texas Tech University School of Law. This series alludes to language that is no-doubt painful for many, but aims to show our community's past and efforts to pursue a better future.
It has been suggested that the history of America is the history of slavery. Perhaps the suggestion is overstated, but there is no question the shameful institution has impacted the economy, social structure and political landscape of our country for centuries. Lubbock was not settled until well after slavery was abolished, but like other places in the South, much of community was guilty of treating its Black residents disgracefully.
Little is known of the Black population in the village of Lubbock—first settled in about 1890—until it was incorporated as a city in 1909. The year before, 30-year-old James Lorenzo Dow had purchased what was called the Lubbock Avalanche newspaper.
Dow was a racist, as was evidenced by his writings. In his editorials and news reports, he began a long, ugly campaign against African Americans. None lived in Lubbock in 1909, and Dow intended to keep it that way.
On Oct. 28, 1909, Dow warned 'If one or two are allowed to come, others will follow. (Black people) are like Johnson grass when it comes to taking root and increasing in a town.' He called Black people 'kinky headed [racial slur] that the Lord made for no other purpose save to be servants of mankind.'
Despite Dow's efforts, a few Black people did arrive in Lubbock. Dow's rants continued. In January of 1910, he wrote:
'There is strong sentiment against the advent of the [racial slur] into Lubbock and those that are slipping them in for servants are going to wake up some fine morning and find out that they have made a mistake. . . . This is white man's country, and it should not be polluted by a lot of worthless [racial slur].
But Black people continued to come to Lubbock, and Dow was concerned they would be allowed to live among the white community. In 1919, he wrote, "People are not going to stand for negro [sic] neighbors, and if there is not regulation made by the proper authorities there is liable to be regulations of a private nature, which should be avoided if possible. . . What are we going to do with the negroes [sic]?"
By 1920, 63 Black people lived in the city, and another 89 lived in Lubbock County. Those in Lubbock were relegated to neighborhoods on the east side of the railroad tracks.
Housing conditions were horrendous. Black people lived in dugouts, tents and shacks, and all toilet facilities were outdoors. The city provided no utilities, streets were dirt, and water was carried from various nearby wells. Early Black Lubbock residents were excluded from almost every segment of white society other than employment as laborers. Women worked as housekeepers and did laundry for white residents and men were employed as porters, cooks and janitors.
Despite the wretched living conditions, Lubbock's Black population developed a semblance of culture. Small churches were established as early as 1917, mostly in members' homes, and in 1918, the first Black church building was that of Mt. Gilead in the 1600 block of Avenue A.
Education for Black children was a problem. An early school board member claimed white education progressed because 'there were very few [racial slur] . . . in the community.' A successful segregated school system for Black people was developed in spite of many white roadblocks.
In the 1920s, African Americans began to settle in Lubbock in numbers, but the decade saw the zenith of Ku Klux Klan activities in the area.
In 1922, the newspaper reported members of the local Klan became involved directly with the Black community. [racial slur] town was about the busiest place in all the city last Tuesday evening when, it is reported, about a dozen and a half masked and gunned Klansmen entered that section of the city, left a few warnings to the dusky citizens . . .
In the 1896 case of 'Plessy v. Ferguson,' the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a Louisiana state law that allowed for 'equal but separate accommodations for the white and colored races.' Similar statutes—known as 'Jim Crow laws'—were ubiquitous across the South. Segregation was the law of the land in Texas—and in Lubbock—until the mid-1960s and later.
Thus, the Lubbock City Council passed a Jim Crow ordinance in 1923, providing 'no negro [sic] or persons of African descent or containing as much as one eighth Negro blood shall own property or reside thereon in any part of this city, except that part lying south of 16th Street and East of Avenue C.'
Black people in Lubbock were allowed in movie theaters but relegated to the balconies. In restaurants, separate eating places were afforded in rear areas of kitchens. Payment of a poll tax—often an exorbitant expense for Blacks—was required for the privilege of voting.
The racial prejudice among early Lubbock's white community was evidenced by the City Council's passage of Jim Crow segregation laws and virulent editorials against Black people in the Lubbock newspaper. In 1925, Editor Dow published the following rant:
'There are a few worthy colored people in this city, and we appreciate them in their place: but as a whole, the majority of them are worthless, shiftless, undependable, and a menace to society, and should be invited to change their way of living or change their place of abode.'
Dow's racist attitude toward Blacks in Lubbock influenced official action. An example was the 1925 highway department's relocation of the Slaton Highway, which initially went through the Black community. There was concern that travelers entering the city would have a bad impression of the community. At the newspaper's insistence, the highway was relocated several miles around the Black homes.
When a bus service opened in 1926, the city ordinance granting the franchise provided, "it shall not be necessary for the franchise to carry persons of African descent, and he shall not carry them in a bus wherein white persons are invited to ride.'
In 1926 Dow sold his newspaper to a competing firm, the Evening Journal, which was subsequently published as the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal and the tone would begin to change.
Part two of this series will be published next Sunday.
This article originally appeared on Lubbock Avalanche-Journal: Caprock Chronicles overcoming Lubbock past treatment of Black people
