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| Profile
- Montgomery Bus Boycott Pioneers |
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Samuel Gadson
By Darryn
Simmons
Montgomery Advertiser
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| Samuel
Gadson 's 1953 Ford Fairlane is very much like his 1955 Fairlane
that he used as he drove people around during the Montgomery
Bus Boycott. (Lloyd Gallman, Montgomery Advertiser) |
Samuel Gadson,
78, looks off into the distance from the porch of his home on West
Woodland Dr.
"From the beginning,
so many things had happened that you just knew something was about
to get started," Gadson said.
As he says
this, he gets a faraway look as he seems to drift to a time before
this. A time where Gadson and his 1955 Ford were doing their part
to make things better.
Gadson used
his car to transport people to work during the bus boycott. An elevator
operator at Montgomery Fair, he also worked with Rosa
Parks, who was a seamstress there at the time of her arrest.
As he thinks
back to that time, Gadson reflects on the simple reason he participated
in the bus boycott.
"It was the
best way I could contribute," he said "I wanted to contribute something
to make it better for the young people behind me."
That contribution
didn't come easy. Gadson was a victim of harassment, abuse and arrest.
"We had a police
chief and mayor that wanted to harass you every time they could,"
he said. "If you had 3 or 4 people in the car, they would stop you,
insult you and call you all kinds of names."
Gadson recalls
times when he and other bus boycott participants had to stay overnight
in the church of civil rights activist Ralph
Abernathy because members of the Klu Klux Klan were waiting
in a vacant lot near the church ready to attack anyone who left
the church. He also remembers the time when he was put in jail for
not conforming to what they wanted.
"They arrested
me for not obeying their commands," he said. "I was with Dr.
(Martin Luther) King, but you're not going to get out of line
and call me no names."
Jail time was
not a pleasant experience for Gadson, but there was no breaking
his spirit.
"They weren't
going to insult me or jail me or push me to the point I'd give up
what I was doing," he said. "I had a purpose."
That purpose
wasn't just for him either. Gadson was doing with this for his two
young sons, Clancy and Clifford.
Even horrible
things like the bombing of Dr. King's
house could not lessen Gadson's resolve.
"It was a huge
crowd of people out there concerned," he said. "The mayor was out
there trying to get everyone to leave but no one was hearing it
until Dr. King himself came out there
to assure us that he and his family was okay."
Even then,
Gadson found himself in jail again for not dispersing quickly enough
for the liking of the local authorities.
Again, jail
didn't deter him. It had the exact opposite effect.
"It made me
intent on going further with this," he said. "We had been treated
so bad by these people for so long -- for no reason at all -- and
it was time for it to stop."
That motivation
was further pushed by the people he was involved with, like Dr.
King and Rosa Parks. When asked
about the legendary figures, Gadson can't help but let a small smile
cross his face - especially when talking about King.
"I don't know
if you follow Scripture, but he was the second Moses," Gadson said.
"He decided his people were looking for the Promised Land and that
he would lead them there -- and he was killed for it."
Of Parks, with
whom he worked, he remembers how hard she toiled at Montgomery Fair.
"I know she
was tired that day," he said. "She was the only seamstress working
there and people were constantly bringing things in for her to work
on. It was no shock that she was as tired as she was."
There's a sense
of pride that surrounds Gadson when he talks about his time and
role in the bus boycott. However, that dims a little when he's asked
to look back and compare that time to now.
"I look at
the things that are going on now and it's pathetic," he said. "What
we went through back then and the way young people are now ... and
I wonder if what we did wasn't for a lost cause."
Gadson said
he has tried to tell young people about what they did back then
and they've replied, "You didn't do that for me."
"Then who did
we do it for?" he asked.
Still, Gadson
has no regrets.
"The black
man and woman were catching all kinds of hell back then and we changed
things," he said. "I'm 78 years old and I'm thankful God let me
get to this age -- I had to have done something right to be here."
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