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Frankye Adams-Johnson

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Frankye Adams- Johnson was born in Pocahontas, Mississippi, a


small town outside of Jackson, Mississippi. She was born to a
sharecroppers family, and she is the fourth of seven children.

When and where were you born?


I was born in Pocahontas, Mississippi. Its a small town about nine miles north of Jackson
Mississippi.
Could you tell us about your family and childhood?
I was born the fourth daughter of seven children into a share cropper family. A share cropper is
when you live on the farm that belongs to someone else, and you rent part of the land out and help
farm the land. So thats what a share cropper is. Its like living in a tenement apartment. It doesnt
belong to you; you just rent your little space. For the most part, I grew up in a loving protective village-like environment with lot of extended family and neighbors who shared and cared for each
other.
Next, we would like you to tell us the story of what you experienced during the civil rights movement.
Okay, so when I was growing up, share cropping was not an easy life, it was a very difficult life. And
so sometimes children, like me, were not privileged to go to school every day because we had to stay
out and work the farm, and pick the cotton. So, that prevented us from going to school. The difficulties of that lifestyle had a profound effect on me; each day the school bus rolled by I was sad because
I wanted to get on that bus and go to school like other children. And we also grew up in very separate environments; blacks lived in one part of town and whites in the other part of town. But black
folks were not treated very nicely. As a child I observed things and often heard my parents talk
about the bad things that happened to black folks. Their talk caused me to wonder about why things
were unequal, why there was black and white? And why whites were treated seemingly better; why
God allowed these things to happen. I wondered if God loved everybody equally. I wondered if he
was white could he love a person black like me. I grew with all these things wandering around in
my head.
When I was fifteen years old, my mother left farm life and moved us to the city of Jackson,
Mississippi. This was around 1960. During that time, the Civil Rights Movement was going on in
Jackson; this movement was new to me. People were boycotting and fighting for their rights; for the
right to be equal, for the right sit where ever they wanted, for the right to vote and all those things. I
became conscious of those things going on, so when I was seventeen years old, there were students
at a nearby college who were protesting by boycotting and sitting-in at white lunch counters, and

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white libraries. One of those students happened to be a member of my church and the neighborhood
where I lived. So I began to get involved with the NAACP youth council. With that involvement I
began to get a better understanding of this movement that was taking place in the city and other
parts of the state. I wanted to be a part of this movement. So in May of 1963, I had my first opportunity to participate. I was one of the students who helped organize a walk out of my high school in
support of the college students who had gotten beat up for sitting in at the Woolworth lunch counter
earlier during the week. About six hundred students from the three black the three black high
schools walked out and marched that day. But we
didnt get very far because we were arrested; there
were so many of us marching that there werent
enough paddy wagons or enough space in the city
and county jails to hold us. So, they brought in
garbage trucks and we were hauled off to the county fairground and thrown into a compound that
was used for housing livestock. There at the fairground we became human livestock, our bedding
was the hard concrete floor, and our food consisted
of powdered milk, cold bologna slapped between
staled bread.

I was one of the students who helped organize a walk out of my high
school in support of the
college students who had
gotten beat up for sitting
at the Woolworth lunch
counter...

What was the scariest thing that happened to you


during the civil rights movement?
Most of the summer of 1963, I had become a regular marcher and protestor. On one of those long hot
marches I got hit across my back with a Billy club. That perhaps was one of the scariest that happened to me. It was a very hot day in July. We (the marchers) sat in the paddy wagons waiting to
get processed, that means having a mug shot taken and getting finger printed before we were
thrown into that dreadful compound. While I waited, I sat fanning with a writing pad that I had
brought along on the march. The pad fell to the ground, so I jumped from the truck to pick it up. As
I reached down, I felt a hard smash across my lower back; one of the police officers who were guarding us hit me and then he grabbed his rifle, and cocked the thing like
he was going to shoot it. I remember how some of the male demonstrators rushed to recuse me by quickly grabbing me and pulled me back
up into the paddy wagon. Yeah, Ill say that was pretty scary, but most
of all it made me very, very angry. My back began to swell with intense
pain. They, (the police guards) got a stretcher from somewhere and
made me lie on it. For hours, I laid on that hard stretcher aching in the
hot sun mourning and groaning before they eventually took to the
hospital, The white doctors examined me and dismissed my injury as
a simple bruise to the back. A few days later, two well-dressed white
men came and took me from the compound; one of them said that they
were there to investigate what had happened to me. So they put me in
a car and drove me around Jackson. For a couple hours they drove and

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asked me all kind of crazy questions about who were putting us up to marching and doing the
things we were doing. They wanted to know why I was making up stories about being hit. One of
them threatened me by saying that they were going to take me way somewhere and dump me and
now one would ever know what happened to me. I was so scared; I thought I would pee on myself.
Another scary time what happened upon our return to Mississippi after many of us has journey to
Washington DC to join others in the March on Washington. About six bus load of people from
Mississippi went to the March. When we returned we stopped at the bus station in Meridian,
Mississippi. We were all fired up from the March so
we got off the bus and dashed straight to the restroom and lunch counters designated for white
only. We had marched on Washington, so no more
of this segregated stuff for us, two four, six eight,
we were going to integrate. I remember coming
out of the restroom and seeing this gang of white
thugs attacking some of the blacks from the bus
who had come into the station and sat down at the
white lunch counter. With all the swing, lashing
out, pushing and shoveling, we all ended up back
outside the bus station. Back outside, it seemed as
if all the whites in Meridian has gathered in white
supremacy mob-style fashion; they were throwing
eggs and other stuff in our direction; at the same
time they yelled all sort of racial slurs at us. A mob
of people were attacking us shortly after we crossed
the state line, returning home from the great March on Washington for freedom, jobs and equal
where Martin Luther King has made his great I have a dream Speech and Malhalia Jackson had
with her powered voice bellowed out How I Got Over; a spiritual rendition that brought many of
us to tears. So, the brutal welcoming party that
awaited us upon our return to Mississippi; quickly
snapped us from our illusions, reminding us that Jim
Crow was still alive and well; Wow, that was pretty
scary.

I always felt that we


were fighting for something. We were fighting
for our freedom...for justice...for human
rights...for civil rights,
and...[that] became so
important that the
thought of giving up
never really occurred.

Frankye with members of the Evers family

did you ever feel like giving up?


No, I don't think there was ever a time when I felt
like giving up. I always felt that we were fighting for
something. We were fighting for our freedom, we
were fighting for justice, we were fighting for human
rights, we were fighting for civil rights, and even
though at the tender age of seventeen these terms
were new to my vocabulary, the simple act of doing
something to make a different in the quality of our

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lives in Mississippi became so important that the thought of giving up never really occurred to me.
There was a song that we used to sing, We will never turn back until we are all been free, until we
have equality. It was that kind of thing; a thing like a simple song gave us courage and kept us
going on. So no, I don't know that there was ever a time I thought about giving up. The movement
mostly inspired me to keep fighting on. So even today I don't feel things are different in many ways;
and, even today I don't feel like giving up. I suspect I get discouraged sometimes but I never say,
oh let me throw my hands up because nothing is ever going to change. So Ive always believed
that things change if we help make them change.
how did the assassination of Martin Luther king
impact the movement?
Oh, now you're asking me how the assassination of
Martin Luther King impacted the movement. I
would rather respond if you asked me how the
assassination of Medgar Evers impacted our lives
here in Mississippi. Have you ever heard of
Medgar Evers?

It was the first time I


realized what it meant to
get killed, to be gunned
down standing up for
freedom.

Yes.
Most of the time we hear so much about Martin Luther King, but I'd like to talk about people that
you don't hear that much about. I'd like to respond to your question now and discuss how the assassination of Medgar Wiley Evers affected my life. How about that?
how did the assassination of Medgar evers affect your life?
First, let me tell you a little something about Medgar Evers. He was the NAACP field secretary here
in Mississippi, and Medgar Evers organized the Jackson Youth Movement which I was a part of. His
assassination was the first death, in terms of a nationally known leader, that impacted my life. You
seem when you grow up here, you hear about people getting killed by hateful white people, like the
fourteen year old boy, Emmit Till in Money Mississippi who they say was brutally murdered for
whispering at a white woman., So you grow up hearing about these types of bad things happening
to people black like you; you hear about bad thing happening to people who stand up and fight for
their human rights and the civil rights. But hearing
about this bad thing about Medgar was so different
because it was actually hearing about someone I knew
up close and personal. This was not someone that I had
read about; or heard my folk talk about. He was someone that I had spent time with at the NAACP office; he
was someone that taken the time to teach us young
folks what it was to stand up for what you believe in; he
was a man who cared about our well-being and a man
who always encouraged us. I was with him at the last
mass meeting he would attend less than an hour before

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his assassination. At that very same meeting he plead with the elder leadership of movement to get
the young people out of the fairground compound, the city and county jails because of the deadly
dangerous those places posed to us. And so the impact was of his assassination was very, very devastating. It was the first time that I really realized what it meant to get killed, to be gunned down
standing up for freedom. The impact of that left many of us very saddened because that was the
very first time the reality of bad things happening hitting close to home. It was no long what you
hear about but rather a new knowingness of the high price of freedom. A knew knowingness of
what could happen to people like me. But this
knowingness did not make me want to give up, in
spite of the threats, in spite of knowing that death
was a real part of the struggle for freedom I felt
inspired to fight on anyhow. Before I'll be a slave,
I'll be buried in my grave is another song that we
used to keep us going because you know that even
though these bad things are happening, even
though these great people are being gunned down
and being assassinated, that was part of the sacrifice you made. And so the impact of the assassination filled me with mixture of sadness and fear, but,
it also gave me courage to fight harder.

...Ive probably witnessed as much segregation today as it was in


yesteryears...Ive been to
a lot of places in this
country and I dont
know a place where segregation doesnt exist...

do you think there is still segregation today?


Oh, please honey, I've probably witnessed as much segregation today as it was in yesteryears; some
thigns have changed for the better, yet something have change for the worse. Ive been to a lot of
places in this country and I don't know a place where segregation doesnt exist in this country. Its
probably segregated where you are. So let me ask you, are there black or other students of color on
your team doing this interview.
No.
Are there many black people in your school?
a few.
A small minority, yes?
Yes.
So, when you go to school, you probably see about five or six black
people in a class if that many, right? So now I'll put the question
back on you, do you think it's still segregated?
Yes, a little.
So things are still very segregated; for the most part black folks and
other people of color still live on their side of town and whites still

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live predominately on their side of town or in some rich suburbs. However, you have places where
it seems to be a good mixture But, when you put it all together, when you shake it all up and say,
well now lets see how integrated we are and s probably if you did your own survey it's would
probably reveal that 80 percent of the people still live segregated. Now, whether that's by choice or
systematically forced is a key question. In this day and time, segregation is not as overtly enforced,
there are no laws that say that you cannot live in a certain area, but then you have economics and
you have other things, other situations that force people to be segregated so, if there's a mix it's usually where economic, class, and social status play
important roles. So if youre a very low class person
of certain economic background you rarely live in a
certain neighborhood. I would say that many people cannot afford to live in certain in places; so, in a
sense then economic situations force people to live
separately. So we don't have the laws that say that
black people cannot live on a certain streets or in a
certain town, but we have systemic situations that
dictate where people live.

...all of it contributed to
making me the woman
that I am, the conscious
person I am, the courageous woman that I am,
the loving and caring
person that I am.

Were you ever afraid to lose anything while


protesting like family, friends, or your job?
Well, it was a known fact that breadwinners of families could possibly lose their job if it was found out
that their children were involvement with the movement in in shape form or fashion.
My mother was often hesitant and upset when I left the house to go protesting. The majority of peoples parents would not let them go back out because they could possibly lose their jobs. Did you see
the movie, The Help? Well it kind of touches on the dangerous of domestic workers whose had
children involved in the movement. But, as the daughter of a domestic worker, I know firsthand of
how docile my mother was when the white woman my mother work for, threaten to personal whip
my brothers a** if he went marching again. The cost or threat of losing your job was always there.
It was just happening all around you. You young people have probably seen the film Eyes on the
Prize. In that documentary one of the emphasis is how young people going out to demonstrate
posed serious threat to family life.
Would you ever go back and change something
that you did? do you have any regrets?
This is a rhetorical question that always causes me
to chuckle because we can never go back. But in
reflecting on my past as an activist, I dont know
that I have any regrets. I love that line I Keep
Your Eyes on the Prize, that goes like this: the
one thing that we did right was the day we started
to fight. So, no, I would not go back and change

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any of that because all of it contributed to making me the woman that I am, the conscious person I
am, the courageous woman that I am the loving and caring person that I am. The experience
equipped me with a wealth of knowledge and great wisdom that I can pass onto younger generations such as you. It equipped me to be a role model for younger generations; to tell you that it is
better to stand for something than to spend life during nothing. These are things I can pass down. I
am a grandmother now so I can pass down these stories to my grandchildren, who in turn can pass
the torch on to their children.. Those wonderful opportunities, these wonderful insights I gained
from being a part of this dynamic movement. What
awesome blessings!!! Why would I want to change
any of that?

He would do this every


day with more of a fascination of his newly
acquired vocabulary
than the hatred implied
the word...I was first
called the N-word by a
little white boy named
Jimmie..

how did you feel at the time about the national


leadership or the president? or how about the
regards for the civil rights action?
President John F. Kennedy was still very alive and
our national leader during those days. Many considered him one of the countrys most liberal and
progressive leaders. However, I think direct action
and people pressure forced him to listen and take
actions.. He was put in a position where he had to
listen. There were powerful people who put pressure on the political system at the time, so I dont
know that I would say that it was all about John F.
Kennedy being so sympathetic towards the movement or the plight of African Americans(as many have proclaimed)that things changed. I think what
happened is this; so many people were concerned about the injustices that were inflicted people, particularly in states like Mississippi; so that that type of concern coupled with direct actions put pressure on political people who had the power to actually do something, to make a change. Today,
Barrack Obama is our national leader; So, many feel that because he is a colored president or a black
man, he is going to do so much more for the under dogs, the poor people or the less fortunate. This
is not necessarily so,thats not how a system such as our works. It is when people get tired of their
situations, sick and tired of being sick and tired, as Civil Rights heroine, Fannie Lou Hamer would
say, that change occurs. So, the one thing that echoed from the Civil Rights Movement is the
national government is not the catalyst that causes such civil actions as the rights to vote, affirmative
action, fair housing, and other equal opportunities; no, not the national government or its leadership, but these changes happened through people power. So, whereas, I respect national leadership
and the president, I dont put too much credence in their power to cause progressive change.
Were you ever harassed by people you knew or didnt know?
The very first person that pops in my mind on this question is a little white boy who lived doing my
childhood days in Pocahontas. When I was coming of age in this small town that some city folks
jokingly teased us that we lived so far in the back woods that you had to poke your way in and

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hunt your way out. , So as a young child growing up in Pocahontas, Mississippi, we had to coming up out of the wood and walk the dirt road that connected to the paved street which was the
white side of the town to get to our colored school, on the other side of town. Each day we hit the
paved street lined with white house, picket fences and manicured lawns, a little white boy would
run to the fence do a little sing-sung ni**er, ni**er, ni**er. He would do this every day with more
of a fascination of his newly acquired vocabulary than the hatred implied in the word. Yeah, I was
first called the N-word by a little white boy named Jimmie(we learned his name from his mother,
who would allow him to exercise his vocal cords for a
while, then she call out to him, Now, now, Jimmie,
thats enough, now you leave dem ni**ers uh long, an
come in the house. Would this constitute harassment?
I doubt that little Jimme was even conscious of the
mean connotation of the word. But the most profound
and meanest experience while moving to and forth
through the white side of town occurred the day a particular woman, whom my mom had once worked for
and quitted because of the womans hatred for Negroes
for no apparent reason, other than pure hatred , let her
dogs out to chase us. Now, talk about harassment, how
foul is that? In the movement, each day that we went out, we knew that bigots would be on standby
to harass us spit at us and yell racial slurs at us.

If not for my involvement


in the Civil and Human
Rights struggle, my life
would be very shallow. I
think that I would be like
some people, unconscious
of whats going on today.

how much different do you think your life would be if you werent involved in the Civil rights
Movement?
Now there is a profound question! Was not for my involvement in the Civil and Human rights
struggle, my life would bevery shallow. I think that I would be like some people, unconscious of
whats going on today. I think that I would be selfish. I often observe people, and how self-centered
they are, how consumed they are with their own material needs. I would be probably one of those
people you know; satisfied with my domain, contented that I have a nice home, that I have a nice car
to drive, contented that I have a job; oblivious to the plight of other; not caring that right around the
corner from me some poor soul might be suffering; not caring that there are people who still dont
have the right to the tree of life; that people still don't have decent housing fit for human shelter, not
caring that many young people of certain economic backgrounds are not getting a quality education;
not caring that there are still people who are getting charged with crimes that perhaps they didnt
commit. So had I not had the experiences of The Civil and Human Rights Movement to enlighten
me on what the struggle means; on what it means to have equality, what injustice means, or what it
means to simply care, I would not be able to process the injustices that I still see exist today. I
wouldnt have the desire to encourage young people to be concerned about injustices. This experiences was a life-long valuable educational process for me, it equipped me with an undying love and
compassion for what happened to my fellow beings on this planet..

the ModerNCiviL rights MoveMeNt:

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What life lessons did you learn during that time period?
The most important thing that I learned is that if you don't stand for something then you will fall for
anything. That if you don't fight for your freedom, that if you don't fight for your rights and you
don't know where it is that you came from, that if you keep go around in circle doing the same
things expecting different results, that you will continue to live in mental slavery. The life lessons
that I have learned is that you must stand, and you must fight for the things that you believe in;
you must stand on your core values and principles no matter the whats or what ifs. You must
fight for the little things so that the big things are not taken away. Above all, you just stand.

Frankye Adams Johnson currently is an English


teacher at Jackson State University. She is a poet,
speaker, and fiction writer. She is now writing a
novel/memoir about her involvment in the Civil
Rights Movement.

Interviewed and Transcribed by: Karl Bauman, Amanda Brown, & Emily Bauman

h ErE , n AmE

2012 D.C. EvErEst ArEA sChools PubliCAtions

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