GONE WITH THE WIN

        I remember the car—a small car with two big speakers tied to the top.  The car was going up and down the streets of my hometown and there was no way anyone could ignore it.  A country song, “Y’all Come,” was blaring through the big, cone shaped speakers.  It was followed by an announcement of a rally at the railroad station where you could meet the man whose picture adorned the vehicle—George C. Wallace.

        I rode my bicycle down to the station to hear this little man.  He may have been small in stature, but he sure could talk big!  He talked a whole lot about segregation.  The more he talked about, the more he fired up the crowd.  I got on my bicycle and rode home.

        George Wallace ran for governor once before, but he didn’t get elected.  They said he was too soft on “the negro issue.”   This time he sold out to the Klan.  He got their money and their votes, they got his voice and elected power.  He sold his soul to the devil and the devil won—this time. 

        A few months later I watched on television as Wallace took the oath of office on the steps of the state capitol in Montgomery.  He stood on the very spot where Jefferson Davis was sworn in as the president of the Confederacy.  I listened as he pledged, “Segregation today, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever!  “Y’all Come” applied only to the white folks.

        Governor Wallace continued with his vitriolic racial rhetoric.  His critics said that his bark was worse than his bite.  It was a pretty loud bark though, loud enough to stand in the school house door, but not enough bite to scare away the National Guard. 

        There was violence in Selma and Birmingham. A bus was burned.  Innocent people were killed.  Bull Conner turned fire hoses and dogs on protesters in Birmingham. Four innocent little girls attending Sunday School were killed in a tragic church bombing. The Sunday School lesson that morning was “The Love that Forgives.”  People of reason knew that the madness had to stop.

        Rev. Billy Graham came to Birmingham to promote racial harmony. The big football stadium where Alabama and Auburn played football was packed. Dr. Martin Luther King preached the gospel of peace and forgiveness.  When I heard his remarkable, “I Have a Dream” speech from the Lincoln Memorial, I was deeply moved.  Governor Wallace was not.

        There were two things in Alabama more important than politics: religion and sports—not necessarily in that order.  For the most part, white preachers were silent on the race issue.  We went to our white churches and just pretended that the problems didn’t exist while we raised money to send missionaries to Africa. The head usher at my church, who was also my barber and a Sunday School Teacher (haircuts $1.25) bragged about bringing a loaded gun to church to “keep the niggers out.”  As a nine year old boy, I was scared to death..

        There was one man in the state of Alabama more powerful than George Wallace.  In the late 1960’s, this man’s once-mighty football team was no longer a national powerhouse.  The problem could not be ignored.  The coach knew what he needed to do to fix the problem, but first he had to convince people that he was doing the right thing.  Paul “Bear” Bryant called his good friend, John McKay, coach of the University of Southern California and asked him for a big favor.  “I want you to bring your football down here and let’s play a game.”  John McKay reminded his good friend that USC was integrated; no school in the South was at this point.

        “Like I said,” the Bear continued.  “I want you to bring your football team down here.”

        John McKay brought his integrated football team to Birmingham in 1970.  For the first time ever, black men were permitted to do more at Legion Field than sell soft drinks and hot dogs.  The good old boys were making jokes about the California “colored” boys who thought they could play football.

        USC killed the all white Crimson Tide.  It was one of Bear’s worst defeats.  When he met Coach McKay after the game, the Bear simply said, “Thank you.”  He also invited USC's star running back, Sam "Bam" Cunningham into the Alabama locker room after the game.  The young black football star timidly looked into the eyes of the white players he had embarrassed on the football field.  Coach Bryant put his arm around the young man and said to his team, "Gentlemen, this is a football player."
        Coach Bryant had what he wanted.  When he unveiled his 1971 team, there were several black players.  Alabama became the first Southeastern Conference school to integrate.

        The unranked Tide traveled to California to open the next season against the #1 ranked USC Trojans. (Bear was returning the favor)  Alabama won and never looked back.  On New Year’s Day, the undefeated Crimson Tide played Nebraska in the Orange Bowl for the National Championship.  I remember it well because I was there.  So was George Wallace, who didn't look quite so big as he walked across the Orange Bowl turf being dwarfed by the massive football stars.  He knew why Alabama was there.  Bear won more football games in the 1970s than any other football team in a single decade.  Segregation was, shall we say, “Gone with the Win.”

        What happened to George?  Well, you know he ran for president and survived an assassination attempt that left him paralyzed—but it moved his heart.  He learned how to say three words that would change his life, “I was wrong.”

        In the early 1970s I served as Youth Minister of the First Baptist Church in Greenville, Alabama.  George Wallace’s daughter was a member of our church.  She told me that the bombing of the church in Birmingham that killed four little girls deeply hurt her father.  “He should have said, ‘I was wrong’ at that point,” she told me.  “But he continued his public show for political expediency.  It wasn’t until he was shot that it didn’t matter anymore.  For many, it was too late.” 

        He spent the last years of his life speaking in black churches asking for forgiveness.  He ran for governor again, but this time the “Y’all Come” good old white boys were against him. He was elected anyway, by the black vote!

        A football coach changed a state.  A wounded governor changed his heart.  Today we honor the prophet who dared to dream of a nation where people would be judged by the content of their character, rather than by the color of their skin. 

        Y’all come!