IN AUGUST 1964, WHEN THE WATTS NEIGHBORHOOD OF LOS Angeles erupted into one of the city’s worst race riots, the Associated Press dispatched a twenty-seven-year-old white reporter to the scene. A recent graduate of Columbia University’s School of Journalism, Andrew Jaffe took out his reporter’s pad to write down his observations and record his interviews in hopes of putting together the story. It was then that a young black resident of Watts said something that stuck with Jaffe long after the fires in Watts were out.
“You can never tell our story,” the youngster said, “because you’re not black.”
I’ve thought frequently about this moment in Jaffe’s life while writing this biography about Ethel Payne. She was black. I’m white. She was a female. I’m male. She grew up in modest, at times poor circumstances. I grew up in privilege. Who am I to tell her story? I wondered.
I found my answer in two places: First, I found acceptance and support among family and friends of Payne, who never questioned why I should be the one to write her story. Their encouragement and support was of critical importance.
Second, Payne’s own approach to writing encouraged me. She never forgot or hid the perspective she brought to her work. She never pretended to be anything other than who she was. As a black person writing about racism, segregation, and the civil rights movement—all matters that deeply affected her life—she said it was impossible to be objective. Instead she adopted a rigid code of fairness. Above all, she believed that journalism—or any form of writing, for that matter—liberates and empowers one to be able to write empathetically about people, events, and ideas outside of one’s own experience. I share that belief.
WHILE THE ACT OF WRITING is a solitary affair, researching and preparing a book is quite the opposite. I have an enormous cast to thank, and I beg forgiveness should I fail to properly acknowledge someone who rendered me assistance.
From the world of libraries and archives, I am indebted to Diana Lachatanere and the staff of the Manuscript, Archives, and Rare Book Division at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, New York, NY; Joellen El Bashir and Ida Jones at the Moorland-Spingarn Research Center, Howard University, Washington, DC; and the excellent staff of the Manuscript Division of the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Among the many in other libraries and archives who provided a hand were: Valoise Armstrong, Eisenhower Presidential Library; Monica Blank, Rockefeller Archive; Mary Marshall Clark, Butler Library, Columbia University, New York, NY; Eric Cuellar, Lyndon B. Johnson Library; Karen J. Fishman, Library of Congress; Valerie Harris, University of Illinois Chicago Library, Chicago, IL; Larry Hughes, National Archives, College Park, MD; Bill Kemp, McLean County Museum of History, Bloomington, IL; Jessica McTague, Geneva History Center, Geneva, IL; John Reinhardt, Illinois State Archives, Springfield, IL; Kathy Struss, Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library; Annie Tummino, Civil Rights Archive, Queens College Libraries, CUNY, Queens, NY.
Individuals to whom I owe thanks include: Jinx C. Broussard, Louisiana State University, Baton Rouge, LA; Sandy Cochran, Albuquerque, NM; CM! Winters Palacio, City College of Chicago; Chris Martin, West Virginia University; Janelle Hartman, Communication Workers of America, Washington, DC; Sig Gissler, Pulitzer Prizes, Graduate School of Journalism, Columbia University, New York, NY; Jonathan Marshall, Medill School of Journalism, Chicago, IL; Alan Mather, Lindblom Math & Science Academy, Chicago, IL; Ethan Michaeli, We the People Media, Chicago, IL; Donald Ritchie, Historian of the United States Senate, Washington, DC; Hugh Wilford, California State University Long Beach, Long Beach, CA.
At the St. John AME Church, West Englewood in Chicago, which the Payne family used to attend, I was welcomed by Mildred B. Hays and Gwen Roberts.
Melvin Cray permitted me to use a portion of his taped interview with Ethel Payne in 1984 for the Dollie Robinson documentary, Media Genesis Productions, LLC.
Among those who shared remembrances of Payne were Simeon S. Booker, James Christian, Milton Coleman, Ernest Green, Gillie Haynes, Vernon Jordan, Walter J. Leonard, C. Payne Lucas, Robert McClory, Reverend Richard L. Tolliver, and Robert Woodson.
Additionally Ethel Payne’s friends Rita A. Bibbs-Booth, Catherine Z. Brown, Bettye Collier-Thomas, Skip Davis, Joseph Dumas, Vivian Lee, Grayson Mitchell, Barbara Reynolds, Shirley Small-Rougeau, Jennifer Smaldone, Kevin Lowther, and John Raye never tired of my questions.
Several researchers lent a hand. They included William R. Cron, Ann Arbor, MI; Molly Kennedy, Springfield, IL; and Jonathan Scott, Smyrna, GA.
I owe a special thanks to Dr. James A. Johnson, Ethel Payne’s nephew whose battle with the House of Representatives to attend the Page School is detailed in this book. He opened his home to me and shared many valuable documents, photos, and audio tapes.
Jamal Watson was also very kind in sharing material he had accumulated in his research on Ethel Payne.
Members of the 2013 Media & Civil Rights History conference kindly commented on a paper I delivered there about Payne’s journalism. The following people graciously consented to answer my email queries or be interviewed for this book, sometimes more than once: Sylvia Hill, Eleanor Clift, Woodbury Clift, Robert Farrell, Gillie Haynes, Grayson Mitchell, and Juanita D. Miller.
The Chicago Defender provided permission for me to quote extensively from the many articles Payne wrote. The Washington Press Club Foundation also kindly provided permission to use its Ethel Payne oral history transcripts, part of a remarkable oral history project called Women in Journalism begun by the National Women’s Press Club.
I would be ungrateful not to mention the support from E/TL&DS and its president, J. Revell Carr. This is the second book project of mine honored by the organization. Also the wonderful members of my writers group in Albuquerque greatly improved my prologue.
Author David Stewart and I continued a long-standing practice of reading each other’s manuscripts when in draft form. David’s thoughtful comments played an immense role in shaping this book.
This book would not have come to pass had it not been for two believers: the remarkably talented editor Dawn Davis, who acquired the work when she ran Amistad, and my agent, Alan Nevins. Editor Tracy Sherrod and assistant Kathleen Baumer worked hard and brought it to fruition.
I was saved from embarrassing mistakes and many a dangling modifier thanks to the diligent copyediting and fact-checking performed by Nancy Inglis.
Finally, I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to Patty McGrath Morris, my wife of thirty-three years, who was my steady partner in every step of this adventure to chronicle Ethel Payne’s life and gave me honest and valuable editorial suggestions.