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Glasgow Times
06-05-2025
- General
- Glasgow Times
Rutherglen woman's VE Day tribute as Glasgow marks 80th anniversary
This week marks the 80th anniversary of the end of the Second World War. Eileen's family was 'one of the lucky ones', says her daughter, Dorothy, because they emerged from the Second World War unscathed. 'They lived on Victoria Street, which was a very dangerous position, opposite the railway and near to the River Clyde and Dalmarnock Power Station, all prime bombing targets for the German air force,' explains Dorothy. There had been near misses, though, she adds. 'On March 13, 1941, my mum had just arrived home from firewatching in Woolworth's on Rutherglen Main Street, when the sirens went off,' says Dorothy. 'As she heard the whistle of bombs being dropped, she threw herself on top of her mother, who was sitting under the archway of the kitchen door, and her sister Bessie dived under the kitchen table.' Jack and Eileen Connor on their wedding day (Image: Courtesy of Dorothy Connor) She adds: 'There was an official air raid shelter opposite the house, but it was considered more dangerous as it was nearer the railway. 'Folk in the upstairs tenements came down and stood in the closes. The men usually went outside to see what they could but on this night, they threw themselves to the ground as another bomb whistled and thudded down. 'My mum saw the German plane in the searchlights. He dropped the rest of his bombs and got away.' READ NEXT: Tragic story behind Glasgow comedy club's new home READ NEXT: 6 photos which tell story of great Glasgow department store Lewis's That night – which became known as the Clydebank Blitz though it also affected many areas of Glasgow – there was considerable loss of life in the city, says Dorothy. 'Kent Street, near to the Barras, Allan Street, near the Power Station and in Dryburgh Avenue, Rutherglen…' she adds. 'Rutherglen Academy was also hit. 'It wasn't just the nighttime raids people feared. My mum remembered seeing two planes involved in a dog fight near the railway when she was going home in her lunch hour.' Rutherglen Town Hall became an emergency centre in the aftermath of the Clydebank Blitz giving temporary shelter and food to those who had lost everything. 'My mum, who was a supervisor in Woolworth's, remembered one woman wandering round the store in a daze, her clothes in tatters,' she says. 'All her family had been killed. 'Shop staff made tea and gave what comfort they could.' Jack Connor (Image: Courtesy of Dorothy Connor) A world away in Burma, Jack Connor - a royal artillery gunner, deep in the thick of the fighting in the jungle against the Japanese, wrote a letter home. 'Is the Town Hall still so ancient and rugged, is the Odeon still so clean and majestic?' he wrote. 'I imagine that if one were away for a decade things would still remain the same. I hope that Ru'glen's wee roon red lums reek briskly as always.' It was August 15, 1945 before Victory in Japan Day (VJ Day) was declared, and the war in the Far East was over. Jack returned to Rutherglen, and to his job as a hospital engineer at the Southern General (now the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital) in Govan, in April 1946. A clippie celebrates on VE Day in 1945 (Image: Newsquest) Jack Connor and Eileen Kelly met on Hogmanay 1947, and they were married exactly a year later. Sadly Jack died in 1990 and Eileen in 2010. On VE Day in 1945, there was dancing in the streets everywhere (Image: Newsquest) On VE Day, 80 years ago, people danced in huge ring-o'-roses circles stretching the entire length of Rutherglen Main Street, around George Square, and all over the city, as the lights came on again. Dorothy adds: 'In 2015 I was privileged to speak and sing at a VE Day event in Rutherglen Library where once again the townspeople joined hands and remembered those we lost. 'Those of us who have lived our whole lives in peace can perhaps pause for a moment and remember that in cities, towns and villages all over the country, we are all walking in the footsteps of the bravest of the brave.' Dorothy's book Home Town Tales is on sale at Rutherglen Town Hall and Rutherglen Library and will be reprinted next year in time for the Royal Burgh's 900th anniversary, along with her new book, Time Travellers Tales.
Yahoo
20-02-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Clara Luper resisted Oklahoma City segregation. What change will you make?
History teaches us that the biggest changes often start with the smallest actions. A single voice, a single act of courage, a single refusal to accept injustice — each can ripple outward in ways no one could have predicted. And yet, those ripples don't start on their own. Someone has to be willing to make the first move. This is a testament to the power of small actions in creating meaningful change, giving us hope and optimism for the future. More: How I learned about Clara Luper and another OKC hero | Opinion More than a year before the famous Woolworth's sit-ins, a small group of young people sat down at an Oklahoma City lunch counter and quietly changed history. Led by their teacher, Clara Luper, these students took one small step that became part of a much larger movement. A local high school teacher and civil rights activist, Luper organized the first sit-in at Katz Drug Store in 1958. At the time, segregation was the norm. Black customers could shop in stores but were not allowed to sit and eat at the lunch counters. Luper and her students believed that needed to change. They didn't carry signs or shout in protest. Instead, they walked in, sat down and asked for service. They were ignored. They were insulted. But they did not move. Their silent resistance lasted for days. Slowly, public pressure built and, eventually, Katz Drug Stores desegregated all of its locations. One action in one city. A handful of determined teenagers. A teacher with a vision. And yet, that sit-in helped lay the foundation for the lunch counter protests that would spread across the South in the 1960s, shaping the civil rights movement as we know it today. Opinion: Black professionals can succeed despite Trump. Here's how. Clara Luper understood something powerful, and it's a lesson we desperately need today: We don't have to wait for permission to demand change. We don't need an army to make a difference. Sometimes, all it takes is stepping forward, even when others hesitate. Her work wasn't about making grand speeches but about taking action, however small, and inspiring others to do the same. This Black History Month, Clara Luper's story reminds us that history is not made by just prominent people — it's shaped by everyday folk willing to take a stand. This recognition of the role of ordinary individuals in shaping history should make us all feel valued and important in the fight for justice. These lessons are becoming increasingly important these days. Too many of our elected officials are purposefully seeking attention through outrage so they can gain political power for themselves. Too often, the cost of that notoriety comes at the expense of communities that have been historically and purposefully marginalized. In difficult times like this, we must remember that change begins with small acts of courage. Whether it's speaking up in a meeting, helping a neighbor, or challenging unfair policies, we all have opportunities to make a difference. Clara Luper and her students didn't set out to change the world in one day. They simply sat down at a lunch counter and refused to move. That's how change happens — one small step at a time. My question to you: What small step will you take today? Angela Monson is a former member of the Oklahoma Senate and the Oklahoma House of Representatives and currently is the legislative and outreach director for the Oklahoma Policy Institute and its grassroots advocacy program, Together Oklahoma. This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: Oklahoma City's Clara Luper set an example to follow | Opinion
Yahoo
20-02-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Tampa's Path to Equality Part 5: The Breakthrough
The Brief Tampa will celebrate a proud anniversary on Feb. 29. Black high school students defied segregation at a Woolworth lunch counter, which led to peaceful integration throughout Tampa. The Tampa mayor at the time formed a biracial committee to negotiate the end of segregation in Tampa, leading to Gov. LeRoy Colins taking the next big step. TAMPA, Fla. - Tampa celebrates a proud anniversary on February 29. On Leap Day of 1960, black high school students defied segregation at a Woolworth's lunch counter, and it led to peaceful integration throughout Tampa as black and white community leaders came together. The backstory The students received protection and support from then-Tampa Mayor Julian B. Lane, and after Lane formed a biracial committee to negotiate the end of segregation in Tampa, Florida's former Governor LeRoy Colins took the next big leap in March 1960 in a statewide radio address. RELATED: Tampa's Path to Equality Part 4: The Sit-ins He stunned the white supremacists who elected him by denouncing segregation. He called it undemocratic, unrealistic and unchristian. "It is unfair and morally wrong," said Collins, who added, "We can never stop Americans from struggling to be free." Collins also announced a statewide biracial committee modeled after Tampa's, and he picked Tampa Committee members Perry Harvey Sr. and Cody Fowler to serve on this one as well. Follow FOX 13 on YouTube "He never stopped working and trying to help our community grow," said Cody Fowler's grandson Jim Davis (a former Tampa U.S. Representative). "It's about sitting with people, digging deep, finding out what we have in common, looking beneath the surface, whether that's a color of the skin or what otherwise might seem to separate us and how we work together for the benefit of everybody. That's what this story is about." Dig deeper In Tampa, the committee spent months convincing lunch counters to integrate. "The problem is, of course, these stores are not independently owned," said civil rights historian Dr. Steven Lawson. They're national chains, and none want any backlash. PREVIOUS: Tampa's Path to Equality Part 3: 'Election of the Century' "The manager of Woolworth's would say, 'Well, if I integrate my lunch counter, I'm going to lose all these white customers. They're going to go to Kress,'" explained Lawson. "So, if you could figure out a way in which all of them do it at the same time, and they got permission from the national headquarters, that they could do that." Therefore, the committee brokered negotiations with 18 different stores. Their internal notes from August 1960 revealed just how much they put into coordinating places and times, staffing detectives in stores and more. "They would choose groups of two students," said Lawson. "They would be in their Sunday best. They would go to the various lunch counters at the exact same time. And this was not going to be known exactly to the public at large." They did it, and then announced it later—too late for mobs to attack. "That's how change occurs when people can talk and discover they have more in common than they realize," said Joyner. READ:Tampa's Path to Equality Part 2: The Awakening And, Mayor Lane kept going. "They started doing the pools. We have a group of African Americans that want to come use the pool," said Mayor Lane's grandson Julian Lane III. "[Mayor Lane] said, let them swim. It's their right. They can swim." He helped integrate the fair by showing up on the day reserved for blacks, as did Governor Collins. Both put Florida on the path to equality, and both paid for it politically. Mayor Lane lost re-election. "This is about courage. Mayor Julian Lane lost his reelection without regret," Davis said. Gov. Collins lost his next campaign for U.S. Senate. MORE: Tampa's Path to Equality Part 1: The First Steps "He was a man of real moral courage. It killed his political career. But when you stand up for what you believe in regardless as to what eventually may happen to you, you know in your heart that you did the right thing. And he did," said Arthenia Joyner, who participated in Tampa's sit-in movement as a high school student. Craig Patrick explains how Tampa's progress in 1960 inspired change across the nation, how the lessons of 1960 helped restore peace later, and how they can also bring us together today — in the next part of his series, "Tampa's Path to Equality." The Source The information in this story was gathered through interviews with Jim Davis, Dr. Steven Lawson, Julian Lane III and Arthenia Joyner. It also includes information from historical research by FOX 13's Chief Investigator Craig Patrick. WATCH FOX 13 NEWS: STAY CONNECTED WITH FOX 13 TAMPA: Download the FOX Local app for your smart TV Download FOX Local mobile app:Apple |Android Download the FOX 13 News app for breaking news alerts, latest headlines Download the SkyTower Radar app Sign up for FOX 13's daily newsletter


CBS News
19-02-2025
- Politics
- CBS News
65 years later, Greensboro sit-in pioneer Joseph McNeil reflects on historic civil rights protest
Sixty-five years ago, Joseph McNeil and three fellow college students from North Carolina A&T took a stand against segregation by simply sitting down. On February 1, 1960, McNeil — along with Ezell Blair Jr., David Richmond and Franklin McCain, who were known as the "Greensboro Four"— sat at a Whites-only Woolworth's lunch counter in Greensboro, North Carolina. The peaceful sit-in, which lasted more than five months, sparked a wave of similar protests across the South and became a pivotal moment in the civil rights movement. McNeil recently returned to the site of the historic demonstration, now a museum and national landmark, to reflect on the anniversary of their courageous act. "I had to tell my mother that I might be taking on something very difficult and that I might be going to jail," McNeil recalled. "And she says, 'What? What are you doing going to jail?'" At just 17 years old and a freshman in college, McNeil was aware of the risks, yet he and his friends remained committed in their mission. The Greensboro Four studied nonviolent tactics at their local NAACP chapter. McNeil said there were "intense feelings of some degree of fear," felt from from inside the now-preserved Woolworth's, which has been transformed into the International Civil Rights Center & Museum. "But it wasn't really fear, because we came back day after day after day." What started as four students quickly grew into a mass movement. "Well, the reality was that on day three, we had grown from four to 16 to the beginning of 100-plus students," McNeil said. McNeil said the deliberate decision to keep the movement student-led. "We didn't like adults. We figured they'd get in the way," he said. Now 82 years old, McNeil is battling advanced Parkinson's disease, which makes speech challenging. Despite his condition, his recollections of those pivotal days remain sharp. His son, Joseph McNeil Jr., joined him at the museum event, helping him gather his thoughts as he revisited the legacy of a movement that reshaped American history. How the Greensboro Four helped push civil rights forward The Greensboro sit-in helped ignite a nationwide push for civil rights, leading to lasting changes in American society. By year's end, 75,000 students had joined, and 3,600 were arrested. Today, McNeil hopes younger generations will learn from the past and continue advocating for equality. "The reality is, when people stand together, we can make a difference," he said. The original Woolworth's lunch counter remains a symbol of resilience, reminding visitors of bravery exhibited by those who participated in sit-ins. "I think people who live here, they're very proud of the fact that we have achieved those milestones," said John Swaine, chief executive officer of the International Civil Rights Center & Museum. He noted that younger generations are still deeply engaged in social justice movements. "The younger generation, with the killing of George Floyd, turned out in droves," Swaine said. "We're teaching young students that through social disobedience, direct action, collaboration, you can get together and solve some of these vexing issues." After the sit-ins, McNeil joined the U.S. Air Force reserves, rising to the rank of two-star major general. When asked why he chose to serve despite the country's mistreatment of African Americans, McNeil responded, "I cared enough to say I can stand tall, because I've got the best you've thrown at me." He later joined the Federal Aviation Administration, spearheading diversity initiatives there and in the Air Force—high achievements that stemmed from his determination to sit down in 1960. Reflecting on his legacy, McNeil remains humble. "Not really self-serving. People knew these risks exist. Young people were aware of this. But it wasn't about us so much as what we grew to develop."

Yahoo
15-02-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Horrors and hope: Awareness of Selma brutality led to voting rights laws 60 years ago
JOHNSTOWN, Pa. – As a teen raised in the Rust Belt in the 1960s, Alan Cashaw wasn't blind to the fact that racism existed. But he also knew freedom in Johnstown. 'There was never a question over whether I could vote when I turned 18. My mom even worked at the election polls,' Cashaw said. 'Even then, there was never a place in Johnstown where I couldn't walk in and order something to eat. I wasn't being turned away at the lunch counter at Woolworth's.' That's one reason he was filled with shock and heartache in 1965 as televised images showed Black men and women being denied the same rights – and assaulted on 'Bloody Sunday' in the Deep South. 'I'd come home from school ... and watch Walter Cronkite on my TV and see stories about people being attacked ... see children have high-powered water hoses turned on them,' he said. And 60 years ago this week, much of that attention focused on Selma, Alabama. Cashaw was among millions watching when news broke that a man named Jimmy Lee Jackson was fatally beaten by an Alabama Highway Patrol officer during a voting rights demonstration Feb. 18, 1965. Just weeks later, on March 7, 1965, a crowd of 600 was attacked with tear gas and billy clubs. It became known as 'Bloody Sunday.' But millions across the nation also watched as Selma's Black community persevered, responding to the violence with a peaceful, songful march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, to usher in change. 'Local' issue Today, 'Selma' is remembered as a watershed moment for civil rights – and a national event that drew some of the movement's biggest names of the era. It didn't start out that way, said Samuel Black, the director of African American Programs at the Sen. John Heinz History Center in Pittsburgh. 'It started with the people in the small town of Selma,' Black said. 'The whole movement started as a local demonstration – as most do.' In this case, most of Selma's 23,000 residents were Black, he said. But their rights to vote were being denied in large numbers by local leaders within a state operating under the heavy hand of then-Gov. George Wallace. 'When they started (protesting), they weren't intending to march anywhere – there was no plan to go to Montgomery,' Black said. It started as an effort by Selma residents, including members of the Dexter Avenue Memorial Church and Brown Chapel African Methodist Episcopal Church, to raise awareness through signs and small public demonstrations, he said. But the mass arrests and brutal attacks they faced only raised more awareness about the Jim Crow-era edicts that still prevailed in Alabama. 'A lot of people in the South ... it was all they knew,' said Cashaw, whose father moved to Johnstown from a segregated Georgia in 1938. 'Rights were being violated' The Selma to Montgomery march was organized in the aftermath of the landmark passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which outlawed discrimination by race. But as history often shows, laws are only effective if they are enforced, Black said. And in states such as Alabama, Georgia and Mississippi, the people in power were doing whatever it took to keep Black people from being able to cast ballots. Under Wallace, staunch opposition efforts often derailed voter registration drives – in doing so, limiting Black registration to 2% statewide, figures show. 'People like Amelia Boynton (Robinson) recognized their constitutional rights were being violated,' Black said. 'Their ability to move up in society – whether it meant running for local office or obtaining a job for the city or the county – voting was key to it.' The group started with neighborhood demonstrations and organized voter registration drives in January 1965. After one Southern Christian Leadership Conference member was jailed for his voter registration work, a group of 600 protesters planned a walk from a local church to the county jail Feb. 18, 1965. But they were met by a wall of state law enforcement officers and Marion County police, who attacked the group and chased them from the scene, reports at the time show. One activist, a local church leader named Jimmie Lee Jackson, was shot and beaten and died at a hospital a week later. 'Nowhere to hide'When a smaller group – an estimated 300 people – drew up the courage to protest Jackson's attack in a March 7 demonstration, they were met by Alabama Highway Patrol officers and a vigilante band on horseback, according to National Park Service accounts. State lawmen ordered the group to disperse. Then they fired gas canisters and attacked them with clubs – with Boynton Robinson among those attacked, records show. Because this was a small town, there was nowhere to hide, Black said. Some were followed back to their homes or neighborhood and assaulted, he said. 'In small-town America, everyone knows where everyone else lives,' Black said. 'The people of Selma were standing up for themselves ... even though they had nowhere to hide.' 'Broadcast' peaceOrganizers quickly decided they needed to turn to outside support. Some of the nation's most prominent civil rights leaders responded, including the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. Some of the era's biggest stars – including singer Harry Belafonte, Sammy Davis Jr. and Tony Bennett – joined the effort. Belafonte and others took turns leading the march in song. 'It was very strategic,' said Black, noting that the most prominent marchers were placed out front to protect fellow marchers. 'They understood you couldn't respond with violence. They wanted to respond to the conscience of America – and the best way to do that was to broadcast it for everyone to see,' he said. Across the nation, Americans watched as the group sang hymns and freedom songs along the nearly 55-mile march to Montgomery. Campsites were arranged to allow people to rest each night. Vehicles traveled along the route to provide temporary refuge from the sun and rain. TV cameras followed every groundbreaking step, Black said. 'The whole point was to invite the nation in to see what an effort it took just to get voting rights in Alabama,' Cashaw said. 'Through peace, it shined a light on the brutality they were facing.' This time, the group completed the journey. By March 25, the group arrived at Montgomery – delivering a call for change to Wallace's doorstep. 'By the time Dr. King delivered his speech, 'How Long, Not Long,' there was a crowd of 25,000 people,' Cashaw said. 'It was being (broadcast) to everyone's TV sets.' Laws 'protect us all'That August, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the 1965 Voting Rights Act into law, which expressly banned voter discrimination by race – and expanded protections by banning literacy tests and other methods previously used to limit voting. Johnson signed the law in the same room President Abraham Lincoln had signed the Emancipation Proclamation 100 years earlier. Voter registration numbers surged across the south among Blacks, more than doubling in Alabama from 1964 to 1966. Selma residents ousted the county's segregationist sheriff at the ballot box soon after. Voters elected five Black residents to city council by 1972, newspaper archives show. 'The people of Selma deserve more credit,' Black said, 'for turning a local issue into a national movement.' Cashaw noted the Voting Rights Act – which he said still finds itself under attack today – is among a list of Civil Rights laws that benefit Americans of every age, color and creed. 'It wasn't just where people could go to school or allowing everyone the (same) right to vote,' Cashaw said. 'During that period, equal employment rights rose up from that. You can't be denied a job because you are pregnant. Or with housing, your landlord can't refuse to provide access to water ... no matter what you look like,' he added. 'These laws protect everyone from discrimination,' he said. 'They protect us all.'