The Freedom Rides

A pipe smashed into the back of Charles Person’s head, and he tasted blood.

It was May 14, 1961, and Person, a Black college student from Atlanta, had just gotten off a Trailways bus in Birmingham, Alabama, and entered the bus terminal. He was part of an interracial group of 13 civil rights activists riding from city to city in the South, trying to challenge racial segregation in bus stations.

But a crowd of White men lining the walls of the terminal had not come to welcome them. The men immediately started hurling insults, swinging fists, and attacking with lead pipes. They punched Person in the face, knocking him to the ground before the pipe smashed his skull.

The seven Black and six White activists, including Person, escaped only when a flashbulb went off as a news photographer took the only surviving photo of the assault, before the angry mob turned on him too (see photo, below).

“The flash went off, and it startled them,” says Person, who was 18 at the time and is now 78. “At that point, they just released me.”

None of the White doctors in Birmingham would treat him, so the wound drained to a knot in the back of his neck. He would live with the fist-sized bruise for 35 years before a surgeon removed it.

A pipe smashed into the back of Charles Person’s head, and he tasted blood.

It was May 14, 1961. Person, a Black college student from Atlanta, had just gotten off a Trailways bus in Birmingham, Alabama, and entered the bus terminal. He was part of an interracial group of 13 civil rights activists riding from city to city in the South. They aimed to challenge racial segregation in bus stations.

But a crowd of White men lining the walls of the terminal had not come to welcome them. The men immediately started yelling insults, swinging fists, and attacking with lead pipes. They punched Person in the face, knocking him to the ground before the pipe smashed his skull.

Including Person, there were seven Black and six White activists present that day. They escaped only when a flashbulb went off as a news photographer took the only surviving photo of the assault. Shortly after, the angry mob turned on the photographer too (see photo, below).

“The flash went off, and it startled them,” says Person, who was 18 at the time and is now 78. “At that point, they just released me.”

None of the White doctors in Birmingham would treat him, so the wound drained to a knot in the back of his neck. He would live with the fist-sized bruise for 35 years before a surgeon removed it.

But the impact of his actions that day would last even longer. Person was one of the youngest Freedom Riders, the nonviolent protesters—most of them young people—who traveled from one Southern city to the next, trying to integrate “Whites Only” waiting rooms and lunch counters at bus stations. They endured arrests, beatings, and fire bombings along the way. But their actions energized the civil rights movement and helped lead to landmark civil rights laws outlawing discrimination.

Sixty years later, the Freedom Riders serve as a testament to “the spontaneity and the tenacity” of young people during the civil rights movement, says Ann Bausum, author of a book about the Freedom Rides. “They showed that the struggle for equality wasn’t just a Black problem,” she says, “it was an American problem.”

But the impact of his actions that day would last even longer. Person was one of the youngest Freedom Riders. These nonviolent protesters traveled from one Southern city to the next. Most of them were young people. They aimed to integrate “Whites Only” waiting rooms and lunch counters at bus stations. They endured arrests, beatings, and fire bombings along the way. But their actions energized the civil rights movement and helped lead to landmark civil rights laws outlawing discrimination.

Sixty years later, the Freedom Riders serve as a testament to “the spontaneity and the tenacity” of young people during the civil rights movement, says Ann Bausum, author of a book about the Freedom Rides. “They showed that the struggle for equality wasn’t just a Black problem,” she says, “it was an American problem.”

At the time of the Freedom Rides, segregation was still entrenched in society, especially in the South. Change had come slowly—when it came at all (see timeline slideshow, below).

In the 1954 landmark case Brown v. Board of Education, the Supreme Court ruled that the concept of “separate but equal” schools for White and Black people was inherently unequal and unconstitutional, but Southern states fiercely resisted that ruling. In 1955, Rosa Parks refused to give up her bus seat to a White person, spurring the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which forced the city to integrate the local bus system. And Supreme Court rulings in 1946 and in 1960 had outlawed segregation in interstate rail and bus terminals.

Still, many interstate bus and rail stations in the South ignored the Court and maintained segregation, forcing Black citizens to use separate bathrooms, water fountains, and lunch counters. Local customs and racist Jim Crow laws kept the social order in place, with the support of the Ku Klux Klan (K.K.K.), a White supremacist group, and local police.

The Freedom Rides challenged the federal government to enforce the Supreme Court rulings that outlawed segregation. They were devised by the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), the civil rights group that had helped organize similar anti-segregation efforts in places such as Chicago and across the South. CORE trained interracial groups of volunteers to practice nonviolent civil disobedience.

At the time of the Freedom Rides, segregation was still the norm in society, especially in the South. Change had come slowly. And that‘s if it even came at all (see timeline slideshow, below).

In the 1954 landmark case Brown v. Board of Education, the Supreme Court ruled that the concept of “separate but equal” schools for White and Black people was unequal and unconstitutional at its core. Despite the ruling, Southern states resisted. In 1955, Rosa Parks refused to give up her bus seat to a White person. Her refusal spurred the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which forced the city to integrate the local bus system. And Supreme Court rulings in 1946 and in 1960 had outlawed segregation in interstate rail and bus terminals.

Still, many interstate bus and rail stations in the South ignored the Court and maintained segregation. They forced Black citizens to use separate bathrooms, water fountains, and lunch counters. Local customs and racist Jim Crow laws kept the social order in place. And the Ku Klux Klan (K.K.K.), a White supremacist group, and local police ensured things didn’t change.

The Freedom Rides challenged the federal government to enforce the Supreme Court rulings that outlawed segregation. They were devised by the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), the civil rights group that had helped organize similar anti-segregation efforts in places such as Chicago and across the South. CORE trained interracial groups of volunteers to practice nonviolent civil disobedience.

The first Freedom Ride began on May 4, 1961, when 13 people boarded two public buses in Washington, D.C. The initial plan was to ride buses to New Orleans, staging sit-ins at bus terminals along the way, before taking part in a rally.

Within the civil rights movement, though, tensions were simmering between older activists and younger ones. While more seasoned civil rights groups, like the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), favored pushing for progress through the courts—a process that took years—a new generation of civil rights activists had less patience. John Lewis, one of the original Freedom Riders and later a longtime member of Congress from Georgia, once recalled how he and other young activists felt.

“To those who have said, ‘Be patient and wait,’ we must say that we cannot be patient,” said Lewis, who died last year. “We do not want our freedom gradually, but we want to be free now.”

While the civil rights leader Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. supported the Freedom Riders, he declined to ride with them. King was already on probation for a bogus traffic arrest and could be sent to prison for months, where he and his advisers believed he’d be less valuable to the movement—and in grave danger. This irritated many younger activists, who felt they also risked being jailed and were putting their lives on the line. At a meeting in Atlanta, where the Freedom Riders tried to convince King to come along, King encouraged them but expected them to be met with violence.

“You will never make it through Alabama,” he told a reporter accompanying the group.

Sure enough, on day 11 of the Freedom Rides, the buses arrived in Alabama, where the K.K.K. had deep roots. Outside the city of Anniston, a White mob ambushed the group. Klan members slashed the tires of a Greyhound bus and then set it on fire, with the passengers still inside. The Freedom Riders fled the flames, only to be attacked by the mob, while local police allowed the violence to happen.

Newspapers around the globe carried photos of the chaos. Although integrating bus lines in the South hadn’t been on the agenda of newly elected President John F. Kennedy, who was preoccupied with the Soviet Union and the Cold War, the violent images embarrassed him and his brother Robert Kennedy, the attorney general, in the eyes of the world. How could a nation that portrayed itself as a beacon of democracy and justice tolerate brutality against its own citizens?

“The administration ultimately realized that it didn’t have the choice to look away,” says Bausum.

The first Freedom Ride began on May 4, 1961. That day 13 people boarded two public buses in Washington, D.C. The plan was to ride buses to New Orleans. They were going to stage sit-ins at bus terminals along the way, and then take part in a rally once they arrived.

Within the civil rights movement, though, tensions were simmering. Older activists and younger ones were often at odds. More seasoned civil rights groups, like the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), favored pushing for progress through the courts. But that process would take years. A new generation of civil rights activists had less patience. John Lewis, one of the original Freedom Riders and later a longtime member of Congress from Georgia, once recalled how he and other young activists felt.

“To those who have said, ‘Be patient and wait,’ we must say that we cannot be patient,” said Lewis, who died last year. “We do not want our freedom gradually, but we want to be free now.”

The civil rights leader Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. supported the Freedom Riders. Still, he declined to ride with them. King was already on probation for a bogus traffic arrest and could be sent to prison for months. He and his advisers believed he’d be less valuable to the movement and in grave danger in prison. This irritated many younger activists. They felt they also risked being jailed and were putting their lives on the line. At a meeting in Atlanta, the Freedom Riders tried to convince King to come along. King encouraged them but expected them to be met with violence.

“You will never make it through Alabama,” he told a reporter accompanying the group.

Sure enough, on day 11 of the Freedom Rides, the buses arrived in Alabama, where the K.K.K. had deep roots. Outside the city of Anniston, a White mob ambushed the group. Klan members slashed the tires of a Greyhound bus and then set it on fire, with the passengers still inside. The Freedom Riders fled the flames, only to be attacked by the mob. The local police allowed the violence to happen.

Newspapers around the globe carried photos of the chaos. Integrating bus lines in the South hadn’t been on the agenda of newly elected President John F. Kennedy. At the time, he was preoccupied with the Soviet Union and the Cold War. But the violent images embarrassed him and his brother Robert Kennedy, the attorney general. How could a nation that portrayed itself as a beacon of democracy and justice tolerate brutality against its own citizens?

“The administration ultimately realized that it didn’t have the choice to look away,” says Bausum.

Halted by violence, the original Freedom Rider groups flew to New Orleans. But others took up the cause, insisting that they couldn’t let violence win. Within a few days, 10 members of the Nashville Student Movement—a group of college students from Tennessee led by Diane Nash—boarded buses heading south. They too would face brutal beatings and arrests.

In Montgomery, Alabama, on May 21, more than 1,500 people gathered in Reverend Ralph Abernathy’s First Baptist Church to honor the Freedom Riders. King and James Farmer, one of the principal architects of the Freedom Rides, gave speeches and led songs and prayers, while a mob of 3,000 Whites surrounded the church, threatening to set it on fire. The Kennedy administration called in federal marshals. The standoff lasted until the morning, when the marshals and National Guard troops defused the situation.

With violent clashes escalating, White Southern politicians ramped up their rhetoric. Alabama Governor John Patterson told reporters that “the best thing for King and all of the so-called Freedom Riders is to return to their homes, go back to their books, and mind their own business.”

Across the country, not just in the South, many people criticized the Freedom Riders. A Gallup poll from 1961 showed that 61 percent of Americans disapproved of the group, and only 28 percent thought they helped the cause of integration.

Halted by violence, the original Freedom Rider groups flew to New Orleans. But others took up the cause, insisting that they couldn’t let violence win. Within a few days, 10 members of the Nashville Student Movement boarded buses heading south. This group of college students from Tennessee was led by Diane Nash. They too would face brutal beatings and arrests.

In Montgomery, Alabama, on May 21, more than 1,500 people gathered in Reverend Ralph Abernathy’s First Baptist Church to honor the Freedom Riders. King and James Farmer, one of the principal architects of the Freedom Rides, gave speeches and led songs and prayers. Outside the church, a mob of 3,000 Whites threatened to set it on fire. The Kennedy administration called in federal marshals. The standoff lasted until the morning, when the marshals and National Guard troops defused the situation.

With violent clashes increasing, White Southern politicians ramped up their rhetoric. Alabama Governor John Patterson told reporters that “the best thing for King and all of the so-called Freedom Riders is to return to their homes, go back to their books, and mind their own business.”

Across the country, not just in the South, many people criticized the Freedom Riders. A Gallup poll from 1961 showed that 61 percent of Americans disapproved of the group. Only 28 percent thought they helped the cause of integration.

In Mississippi, local courts sentenced Freedom Riders to 90-day stints in the Mississippi State Penitentiary, known as Parchman Farm, which was infamous for its inhumane conditions. When the activists sang in solidarity—including songs like “We Shall Overcome”—prison guards removed their sheets, mattresses, and toothbrushes.

Despite the threats of violence and prison, new Freedom Riders arrived throughout the summer from all over the nation. At one point, more than 300 Freedom Riders were imprisoned, putting added pressure on the Kennedy administration.

Robert Kennedy asked the Interstate Commerce Commission (I.C.C.) to enforce a desegregation order it had issued six years earlier. Finally, in September, the I.C.C. confirmed its ruling and ordered that “Whites Only” signs and other segregation practices be dismantled. Still, some riders kept visiting the South until all the signs came down.

The Freedom Rides soon inspired more activism, and all these efforts eventually forced the federal government to take action. Congress passed the Civil Rights Act in 1964, outlawing segregation nationwide, and the Voting Rights Act the following year, eliminating legal obstacles to Black voter registration.

In Mississippi, local courts sentenced Freedom Riders to 90-day stints in the Mississippi State Penitentiary. Known as Parchman Farm, the prison was infamous for its inhumane conditions. The activists would sing in solidarity, including songs like “We Shall Overcome.” Anytime they did, the prison guards removed their sheets, mattresses, and toothbrushes.

Despite the threats of violence and prison, new Freedom Riders arrived throughout the summer from all over the nation. At one point, more than 300 Freedom Riders were imprisoned. Their imprisonment put added pressure on the Kennedy administration.

Robert Kennedy asked the Interstate Commerce Commission (I.C.C.) to enforce a desegregation order it had issued six years earlier. Finally, in September, the I.C.C. confirmed its ruling. It then ordered the end of the use of “Whites Only” signs and other segregation practices. Still, some riders kept visiting the South until all the signs came down.

The Freedom Rides soon inspired more activism. Together, these efforts eventually forced the federal government to act. Congress passed the Civil Rights Act in 1964, outlawing segregation nationwide. The following year, the Voting Rights Act became law. It eliminated legal obstacles to Black voter registration.

Reflecting on the Freedom Riders and other young activists, King would later praise the “faceless, honest, relentless young people, Black and White, who have temporarily left behind the temples of learning to storm the barricades of violence.”

Today, 60 years later, the Black Lives Matter movement has sparked a nationwide reckoning with racism, and many young people are again at the forefront of protests for racial justice. Person—whose recent memoir, Buses Are a Comin’, recounts his days as a Freedom Rider—wants young people to know that “when you work together, you can achieve almost anything.”

“Change usually begins with young people because they are impatient, and they are not going to accept anything else but change—especially when they know things are wrong,” he says. “You have the ability to change the world, and it begins with one person.”

Reflecting on the Freedom Riders and other young activists, King would later praise the “faceless, honest, relentless young people, Black and White, who have temporarily left behind the temples of learning to storm the barricades of violence.”

Today, 60 years later, the Black Lives Matter movement has sparked a nationwide reckoning with racism. Many young people are again at the forefront of protests for racial justice. Person‘s recent memoir, Buses Are a Comin’, recounts his days as a Freedom Rider. He wants young people to know that “when you work together, you can achieve almost anything.”

“Change usually begins with young people because they are impatient, and they are not going to accept anything else but change—especially when they know things are wrong,” he says. “You have the ability to change the world, and it begins with one person.”