CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The soldier pushed me back inside, where I found myself next to Jarmaine and a growing crowd, including Reverend Abernathy. A moment later the doors opened, and Dr. King came back in. Behind him was the soldier he had been speaking with outside.

Dr. King turned to Reverend Abernathy. “Ralph, this is General Graham. He showed me the governor’s declaration. I’ve asked him to read it to the people.”

Nodding curtly to Reverend Abernathy, Graham followed Dr. King into the sanctuary. We tagged along to see what would happen, settling into our familiar spot behind Gus. She looked exhausted but kept playing anyway. According to my reckoning, she’d been at it for nine hours.

Dr. King led General Graham to the pulpit and motioned for Gus to stop. Graham unfolded a sheet of paper. The crowd leaned forward, waiting to hear the news of their release.

The general put on a pair of glasses and cleared his throat. “Whereas, as a result of outside agitators coming into Alabama to violate our laws and customs …”

Cries rang out as Graham continued. I thought of Diane Nash and the students. It was hard to think of them as outside agitators.

Graham, reading on, raised his voice so he could be heard. The declaration said that the federal government “… by its actions encouraged these agitators to come into Alabama to foment disorders and breaches of the peace.”

Someone called out, “We didn’t breach the peace. They did!”

“Amen!” someone shouted.

Graham finished reading, then folded up the paper and put it into his pocket. “Folks, I didn’t write it. I just enforce it. Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here a while longer. Get comfortable, because it looks like you’ll be spending the night at church.”

There was a loud chorus of boos. I doubted that anyone had been booed in the church before, unless maybe it was Satan.

Graham set his jaw, and Dr. King led him back up the aisle. A moment later they were gone.

Muttering, the people settled in for the night. Some of them tried to sleep. It wasn’t easy, because the pews were crowded, the sanctuary was sweltering, and the smell of tear gas hung over the place. Someone got the idea of taking the children to the basement where there was a cool floor and more room.

Dr. King disappeared into the church office for a while and finally came out, relinquishing the phone to a line of people who wanted to call home. Afterward he circulated through the church, encouraging the people and offering kind words. Through it all, Gus played—hymns of encouragement, then quiet chords and softer songs, music to sleep by.

During one of the songs I slid in next to Gus on the organ bench. “Are you all right? You look so tired.”

She smiled at me, her fingers never leaving the keys. “Honey, I’m past tired. I’m in another place. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

I looked up at the organ pipes and stained-glass window. The church certainly was beautiful, but I had a feeling that it wasn’t the place Gus had in mind.

When I got up from the organ I didn’t see Jarmaine. Then I looked down and spotted her sleeping under the bench, clutching a hymnal to her chest. I made my way around her, slipped off into the narthex, and climbed the stairs to the attic and the ladder to the tower. I closed the trapdoor behind me, then moved to a window overlooking Ripley Street.

The moon was rising in the west—half-white, half-black, not so different from the world I was learning to live in. Below, the National Guard was spread out along the front of the church, rifles ready, helmets glinting in the moonlight. Some of the crowd was gone, leaving a smaller group gathered outside the line of guardsmen.

I spotted Lavender and my parents, with Mr. McCall next to them. Grant handed them bottles of Coke and took a sip from his own as I watched. When he tilted his head, I waved.

“Grant!” I yelled. “Up here!”

Lowering the bottle, he stared, then pointed and excitedly told the others. They called to me, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Watching their lips, though, I could make out one word. Through all the confusion, Daddy mouthed it: Billie, Billie, Billie, over and over again like a silent kiss.

I stayed there most of the night. I didn’t sleep. I just wanted to see my parents and let them see me.

The air was still. The night was hot. The moon, climbing in the sky, turned pink and orange. As the sun rose, a convoy of jeeps and trucks drove up Ripley Street. The first driver got out and spoke with General Graham, who nodded and barked out orders to a nearby soldier. The soldier hurried up the steps and threw the church doors wide open, the way they were meant to be.

The long night was over.