My dad worked shift work at plant in Freeport, Texas. On one August afternoon, the whole family was in the car packed and ready to leave for Arkansas as soon as Dad clocked out. Mom had put boxes of clothes and bedding behind the front seats and spread quilts over the top, making a bed for the four of us kids. It was our plan to drive all night to get to Grandma’s house before noon the next day. In those days it was a 16 hour trip.
We had made the trip so many times that we knew where we would be stopping for bathroom breaks and restaurants. One of the places we usually filled up with gasoline was in Little Rock. But on this night, I woke up to find we were stopped at a road block.
My dad was talking to an army man, who was standing at our car window. He had his rifle slung over his shoulder, but I was fascinated. I looked around and saw two troop trucks on the side of the road in front of us, with soldiers sitting on benches in the back.
When the soldier left, I asked my dad what was happening. He told me that the National Guard had been called out to make sure no riots were allowed to start in Little Rock. I asked him why people would want to riot in Little Rock. He told me that it was because some colored children wanted to go to school with white children there. He told me there was nothing wrong with it, but that some people would be very angry because they did not like colored people.
When sufficient cars had been stopped, they were made into a caravan. No one was allowed to stop in Little Rock for food or gas that did not live there. We were escorted through town in the caravan, with one troop truck in front and one in the back.
It is a night I have never forgotten.
Here is a link if you want to read a bit more about the Little Rock Nine!
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