Tom went for a walk down Morningstar Road on an unusually mild day in early December. Turning west on Richmond Terrace, the skinny science teacher ambled toward the abandoned Bethlehem Steel shipyard, with its rotting docks, corroded hulks, and derelict ships. Approaching the ramshackle tugboat, Tom noticed Amon perched near the top of a utility pole, working on some wires. Stopping in midstride, he realized that those wires carried high voltage.
Suddenly there was a bright spark accompanied by a crackling noise, and Amon was catapulted off the pole. He fell down hard, crashing on the rotting wharf. Tom ran over to him. Amon was stunned but conscious.
“Are you okay? Don’t move! You might have cracked some vertebrae.”
“I’m fine,” Amon replied, grimacing. “This wharf is soft from dry rot. And I have backup.” He showed the young science teacher a greenish metallic cross hanging from his neck on a chain of the same hue.
“That cross is made of copper, actually corroded copper—called verdigris. The Statue of Liberty, as well as the roof of Curtis High School, are made of the same metal. The cross must be very old,” said Tom, looking at it closely.
“I found it on that ship over there.” Amon pointed to an old freighter some distance away.
After emerging from his tugboat with a pair of rubber gloves, Amon remounted the pole and finished connecting the utility lines to a second wire running to his boat.
“So you believe in good luck charms,” Tom said, concealing a smirk.
“I believe in electricity. But divine grace is essential also. The latter is a blessing, as well as an obligation, which I intend to fulfill,” he stated bluntly.
“Aha! You are a man of God after all,” Tom replied, scrutinizing Amon.
“Sure. This is my congregation. I preach to the fishes, the clams, the oysters, and the squid. And this guy over there,” he replied, pointing to a small pig.
“Well, St. Francis of Assisi preached to animals, as well as people. The godly are always looking to expand their flock. We had pigs when I was a kid. Sometimes they’d get out of their pigpen. It was a good excuse for being late to school,” Tom reminisced.
“It’s tough trying to get people to mend their ways—let the ambitious expand their flock,”’ Amon replied.
“Contrary to America’s drive for supremacy, bigger is not always better. Remember the huge dinosaurs of days gone by?”
They’re not around anymore,” Amon responded.
“Scientists believe they were wiped by the Ice Age. And mankind may undergo a similar fate because of environmental pollution,” the science teacher replied.
“So you once raised pigs? You’re an interesting guy … though a bit weird,” Amon remarked with a rare smile.
“That aspect we have in common,” the skinny science teacher replied.
George Wallace
George Wallace was known for his segregationist policies in the South during the 1960s and 1970s. Wallace’s position opposing racial integration was epitomized by his infamous statement, “I draw a line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the face of tyranny. And I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, and segregation forever.”
George Wallace was born in rural southeastern Alabama in 1919. Though his parents were dirt-poor farmers, Wallace was interested in politics from an early age. Wallace tried boxing as a teenager and became adept at the sport. In 1937, Wallace went directly to law school from high school. After receiving his law degree in 1942, George Wallace joined the Army Air Corps, flying B-29 combat missions against Japan during World War II.
In 1946, George Wallace was elected to the Alabama legislature as a racial moderate. In 1948, Wallace supported Harry Truman for president, despite his opposition to the latter’s civil rights program. Wallace held the Southern point of view that racial segregation was a matter of states’ rights. In 1952, Wallace was elected circuit judge of the Third Judicial Circuit Court of Alabama. He gained a reputation for fairness and integrity, treating white and black lawyers with equal respect. Nonetheless, George Wallace opposed the removal of “whites only” signs in railroad stations and blocked federal efforts to review local voting lists, where discrimination was evident.
In 1962, George Wallace was elected governor of Alabama as a segregationist, winning 96 percent of the vote. He was sworn in on the same spot where Jefferson Davis became president of the Confederacy in 1861. This was the occasion of Wallace’s statement vowing to maintain segregation in Alabama forever. In 1963, President Kennedy sent federal troops to Tuscaloosa to enforce integration of the University of Alabama. George Wallace stood in the college’s front door in a vain attempt to stop the federal order. Later on, Wallace tried to prevent the integration of elementary schools in Huntsville and was overruled by the federal courts.
In 1964, George Wallace ran for president on a platform of opposition to racial integration, plus a tough approach toward street crime. His stump speech included rabble-rousing remarks about pinkos protesting the Vietnam War and outside agitators forcing racial mixing. In 1968, Wallace ran a second time for president on a different platform of ending the Vietnam War within ninety days. With regard to domestic issues, George Wallace favored increasing Social Security and Medicare benefits. However, his racial policies continued to oppose what he referred to as “forced integration.”
In 1972, George Wallace ran for president a third time—advocating a moderate approach to racial matters, although he opposed busing to integrate public schools. In the midst of the campaign, Wallace was shot five times, with one bullet penetrating his spinal column. For the remainder of his life, George Wallace was paralyzed from the waist down. In his final term as Alabama governor, Wallace made a record number of black appointments to state jobs, including two black members of his cabinet. Unapologetic about his race baiting in the 1960s and 1970s, George Wallace asserted that he had evolved politically in the area of civil rights. Wallace’s record of four gubernatorial terms across three decades was a national record. For better or worse, George Wallace had an enormous impact on America’s racial politics during the twentieth century.