I can't believe that I threw out the freaking program!
15 years ago I was cleaning house and I came across this drawer
full of 1960s memorabilia -- out it all went. The anti-war memorabilia,
the sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll memorabilia and the civil rights
memorabilia.
15 years later, I shrug when I think of those old Fillmore posters,
the volumes of diaries detailing my People's Park days and my nights
at the Apollo Theater. I did keep an issue of the Berkeley Barb,
however -- the one with me on the front page naked from the waist
up. But the one thing I really regret throwing out was the program
for Malcolm X's funeral.
I also regret that I never went to see Malcolm X
speak. In 1965, my friend Bill Tatum said, "Jane, you gotta
go hear Malcolm X." But New York City was like a playground
back then and there was always something going on and I got distracted
-- Bob Dylan, the Four Tops, taking the bus to the March on Washington,
bumming a ride on a chartered plane to the March on Montgomery,
saving the Lower East Side from "urban renewal," taking
the subway to the Cloisters, legal pharmaceutical-grade LSD -- until
it was too late.
The only time I got to see Malcolm X was at his funeral.
I vividly remember trudging up to Harlem in the snow, walking through
the canyon of buildings that framed Amsterdam Avenue in the hollow
winter light. And on the rim of each building, as we mourners made
our way up the canyon toward the funeral, were hundreds of New York
City policemen in their long dark winter coats outlined against
the pale February sky. And set up in front of each one was a machine
gun -- aimed at us.
I
don't remember much about the funeral itself. I know that Ossie
Davis spoke. I remember the feeling of intense brotherhood and warmth
and love for one another among the mourners and the feeling of terrible
grief over our loss. But the indelible memory of that day for me
was the deadly hostility of the NYPD for those of us brave enough
to mourn Malcolm X.
Dammit. I should never have thrown that funeral program out. What
was I thinking! The least I could have done was to donate it to
our local elementary school -- probably the only school in the country
with the name "Malcolm X". I guess I just got sidetracked.
****
Malcolm X's funeral: "Inside the Faith Temple of God"
[I'm not in this photo. I was seated up in the balcony]:
Additional photographs of Malcolm X can be found at
Malcolm-X.org
BC Columnist Jane Stillwater
is a freelance writer, civil rights and peace activist living in
Berkeley, California. Click
here to contact Ms. Stillwater. |